"Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. " And he pointed significantly to the hand. . They were sounding more and more like Civic every day. But, suppose I've no place to lock 'em up in, how then?" Quilt looked a little perplexed. It was some time later, after a series of these devastating assaults, that Melusine found herself seated on the sofa lately vacated by Lucilla and Captain Roding, cuddled firmly in the arms of a major of militia reduced quite to idiocy. As Mrs.
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