” “I wish,” said Ann Veronica, with sudden anger, “that you could know what it is to live in a pit!” She stood up as she spoke, and put down her cup beside Miss Garvice’s. On the right, stood a bulky figure, with a broken rattle hanging out of his great-coat pocket, who held up a lantern to his battered countenance to prove to the spectators that both his orbs of vision were darkened: on the left, a meagre constable had divested himself of his shirt, to bind up with greater convenience a gaping cut in the arm. “Splendid you are looking to-day, Miss Stanley,” he said. Soon they came to treat Lucy almost as mother, pulling hard at her brown curls and laughing delightedly as they sprang back into their spiral shape. “I shall not speak,” he said, “now or at any other time. “Compromise—and kindness.
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