“I think this ends the business,” he said, turning to his sister. ’ The lady hesitated a moment, her eyes seeming to measure the distance between where he stood and the door. Sheppard, whose maternal fears drew her in another direction, hurried off to the Mint. " "A miniature! Of whom?" "That I can't say," replied Jack, mysteriously. I’m sorry. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape.
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