In a moment or two, Madame Valade recovered her sangfroid. Darell's peculiar bent of mind was exemplified in a rusty broadsword, a tall grenadier's cap, a musket without lock or ramrod, a belt and cartouch-box, with other matters evincing a decided military taste. "Mother—dear mother! Once again, I beseech you to listen to me. The young man looked at her. It was partly to pay a grudge he had against father. "It's wretched enough, indeed, Sir," rejoined the widow; "but, poor as it is, it's better than the cold stones and open streets. At any cost! Her brothers had it practically—at least they had it far more than it seemed likely she would unless she exerted herself with quite exceptional vigor. " "Give me an acquittance," said Trenchard.
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