“Well,” she said, “good-night, father. ’ Abruptly, the niggling doubt that had been plaguing Lord Charvill came sweeping to the surface. “This has almost killed your father. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. “My dear friend,” she laughed, “not so tragic, if you please. He was offered the Bowl, but he left it and smiled, Crying, "Keep it till call'd for by JONATHAN WILD! "The rascal one day, "Will pass by this way, "And drink a full measure to moisten his clay! "And never will Bowl of Saint Giles have beguiled "Such a thorough-paced scoundrel as JONATHAN WILD!" V. ” “I am highly flattered,” she remarked, with subtle irony. Part 2 She found the younger generation of the Widgetts engaged in languid reminiscences, and all, as they expressed it, a “bit decayed. But finding his hints totally disregarded, he, at length, swaggered up to the table, and thrust in a chair. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL. See what you have made of me. It was a mass of knick-knacks. ” “I wonder,” said Mr. He smiled.
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