"Well—well," grumbled Jonathan, "I suppose I must be content. She directed the orchestra to tune again. One studies Nature in order not to be blindly ruled by her. Accordingly, when she arrived at the Shovels, with which, as an old haunt in her bygone days of wretchedness she was well acquainted, instead of entering the principal apartment, which she saw at a glance was crowded with company of both sexes, she turned into a small room on the left of the bar, and, as an excuse for so doing, called for something to drink. She was a trained being—trained by an implacable mother to one end.
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