” “I suppose,” said Constance, stencilling away at bright pink petals, “it’s our lot. Lad, I admire you even in your folly. I will make your grandfather extend to you his protection, and his support. I proceeded to Manchester, to investigate the matter further, and when there ascertained, beyond a doubt, that you were the eldest daughter of Sir Montacute Trenchard. "I fear not," replied Jack, despondingly. And here, we may be permitted to offer an observation upon the peculiar and unaccountable influence which ladies of a shrewish turn so frequently exercise over—we can scarcely, in this case, say—their lords and masters; an influence which seems not merely to extend to the will of the husband, but even to his inclinations. Only three days. I’m fine. And if she is not a nun, nor a refugee, and yet is entirely English, I’m hanged if I know what she is.
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