" "Those terms were a third of my estate," observed Trenchard bitterly. You’re all dependents—all of you. I know not who you are; and, as I cannot discern your face, I may be doing you an injustice. Spurling, who did not dare to exhibit her satisfaction otherwise than by privately pinching the arm of her expected husband. He turned his back on that temptation. " Blueskin, meanwhile, having drained and replenished his glass, commenced chaunting a snatch of a ballad:— Once on a time, as I've heard tell. Earles recovered his spirits. Wait!" He released himself from his aunt's embrace, ran to the trunk and fetched the old coat. " "Not a farthing more, I assure you," rejoined Ireton, pettishly; "we're all on the square here. .
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