The poor things! Oh, it was quite dreadful. Earles himself stood upon the threshold of his sanctum, the prototype of the smart natty Jew, with black hair, waxed moustache, and a wired flower in his button-hole. " "You need not," replied Jack, in a tone of the deepest compunction. Presently he began to weave a tale, sorry enough, with all the ancient claptraps and rusted platitudes. 'He that woos a maid',— fol-de-rol—(hiccupping). Ennison seemed to feel already the shadow of tragedy approaching. That he had resolved upon its execution, whatever it might be, was evident from his saying aloud,— "I will do it.
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