"Let me see," replied Wood; "exactly twelve years ago last November. ’ He thought a wary look came into her face, but it was difficult to be sure. Fast asleep, he is. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. She felt that Ann Veronica had duped her in that dream, and now that she had come up to London she might as well speak her mind. " Amazed at the boy's assurance, Wood left off boxing his ears for a moment, and, looking at him steadfastly, said in a grave tone, "Jack, Jack, you'll come to be hanged!" "Better be hanged than hen-pecked," retorted the lad with a malicious grin.
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