Little more’n a week. “You were never born,” he declared, “to follow the well worn roads. ” “Cooped up!” he cried. At length, he fell down on the road, fully expecting each moment would prove his last. . Wood, who had merely absented himself to see that a public breakfast, which he had ordered at the Six Bells for all who chose to partake of it, was in readiness. '" "An ingenious device," laughed Gay. ‘I’ve had enough of this. But since we must have toasts," he added, snatching up a glass, "listen to mine: Here's King George the First! a long reign to him! and confusion to the Popish Pretender and his adherents!" "Bravely done!" said Wood, with tears in his eyes. He—” “Here they are!” said Ann Veronica as the bell sounded. We ourselves have been similarly circumstanced. As they passed beneath the thick trees that shade the road to Dollis Hill, the gloom was almost impenetrable. “Bless you, sweetheart.
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