XII JACK SHEPPARD A Romance BY W. " The Wastrel advanced. “Good luck! Good luck!” She waved from the window until the bend hid him. Marriage!—and no woman by to tell the child what it was! The shocks and disillusions she would have to meet unsuspectingly—and bitterly. The girl’s gaze met his in interested inquiry. "Who's that queer cove in the full-bottomed wig?" "Attend to me, sirrah," rejoined Wild, sternly. "Then you'll never know more than this," retorted Blueskin, with a grin of satisfaction;—"they're in a place of safety, where you'll never find 'em, but where somebody else will, and that before long. He would pursue that little pastime on some other occasion. Rousing himself, he went to the door. “You are making your dress?” “Such as it is. “You needn’t be worried,” she said quietly. ’ ‘Dear me. I have sinned deeply; but I have been sorely tried.
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