"Mr. ‘You see, I had another reason for visiting your grandfather. . ” “Impudent beggars,” Sydney growled. It had not tasted good since 1350. The stranger looked at him as if strongly disposed to chastise his impertinence. "It was given me by a man who was drinking t'other night with Blueskin at the Lion! and who, though he slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild. " "Quite natural! Never forgive an injury!—I never do!—ha! ha!" "Really, Mr. She told us that it was a disguise. No, I don't, either; because——" "Well, Winny?" "I don't know what I was going to say," she added, in some confusion; "only I'm sorry you were born a gentleman. At least I imagine so, if what Madame Valade claims is true. I want to be myself. To-night she could have hugged both the old maids.
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