"Lord, if I can only remember to write it exactly as you told it!" He jumped to his feet. ” He resumed, after a mouthful: “Here is a girl of sixteen or seventeen, seventeen and a half to be exact, running about, as one might say, in London. I want to be with you. She was to be handed over with her dowry of three thousand Florins, plus her pet bird, six chickens, her mother’s fine linens, a small book of poetry. It is no good waiving the thing; it is true. She was amazed that at over sixhundred years old that she could miss her parents so bitterly. "I didn't mean to give offence," replied Sheppard, sulkily. She got home every night in time to cook supper and it was good money. But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion.
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