I tell you what, Thames," he added, flinging himself carelessly into a chair, "I'd give my right hand,—and that's no light offer for a carpenter's 'prentice,—if that little minx were half as fond of me as she is of you. If you'd read your husband's dying speech, you'd know that he laid his death at Jonathan's door,—and with reason too, as I can testify. “I was surprised, I admit,” he said. Agents were dispersed in all directions—offers the most tempting held out to induce the wavering to join the Chevalier's standard. His glance swept up again and found her staring at him with much of her usual defiance, if a touch less of her customary assurance.
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