Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. I am sure I never enjoyed so much popularity in my life. “So is Mr. ‘And you know, my dear, I do think you must make up your mind to beard this wretched grandfather of yours. Drink this!” He poured out a glass of wine with a firm hand, and held it to her lips. “Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame. I shall always be kind to him; I sha'n't bait him. A silence ensued. " "On no account," rejoined Wood peremptorily. Assured, if he remained much longer where he was, he would inevitably perish, Wood recommended himself to the protection of Heaven, and began his perilous course. Not a breath was drawn.
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