” “But what did father imagine?” “Of course he imagined! Any one would! ‘What has happened, Peter?’ I asked. ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. The two lovers sat together, and their sole discourse turned upon Jack and his ill-fated mother. ‘She won’t. She had agonized over it for weeks. I next proceeded to Jenny Bunch's, the Ship, in Trig Lane—there I got the same answer. None at all. She will sail, at early dawn to-morrow, for Rotterdam. On the second day out he was helped to a steamer-chair on deck; on the third day, his arm across Ruth's shoulder, he walked from his chair to the foremast and back. “Your coffee’s too good to refuse.
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