It must have cut him. "Not my king's," returned Wood. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. ‘And I suppose I shall be obliged to endure another nonsensical tale about your husband. “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us. Hist!" cried he, as a scream was heard from without. It will be horribly dull, and she is a very trying person.
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