" "Not unless your skull's bullet-proof," cried a voice at his elbow; and, as the words were uttered, a pistol was snapped at his head, which,—fortunately or unfortunately, as the reader pleases,—only burnt the priming. “The young women of Jane Austen’s time didn’t get into this sort of scrape! At least—one thinks so. This species of madness cannot properly be attributed to his illness, though its accent might be. Wood. I will wish you success or failure, whichever is the better for you. “I can say no more. I don't know whose brainless head it may be, but it'll do for my collection. ’ ‘But what of justice?’ asked Lucilla, evidently dazed. She was quite tired of the stream of visitors and heard with relief the words of her newfound great-aunt, addressed to her son’s butler.
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