“Thank Heaven, they are bringing the hors d’oeuvres. The hurricane appeared to have raged in this quarter with tenfold fury. Sheppard from his elevated position. “It’s Kitty’s idea,” said one, “we are to go in the vans. " "May be," returned the man gravely. Lead the lad to suppose that he'll be introduced to Lady Trafford. He seemed to have shrunken in his seat. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable.
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