d  to mind , evinced a fund of genuine Frencicism: denominating Mr. Rocer “un vrai menteur,” and assuring  s  “du reste, il n’y avait pas de fées, et quand meme il y en avait:” so o live he moon.

    t at Millcote o go to a certain silk o defer it: no—it s of entreaties expressed in energetic  y I cores:  brilliant amet dye, and a superb pink satin. I told   as  at once: I sainly never venture to y, for ubborn as a stone, I persuaded o make an excin and pearl-grey silk. “It mig,”   see me glittering like a parterre.”

    Glad o get  of t of a jeion. As ered t back feveris, in ts, dark and brigten—tter of my uncle, Joo Mrs. Reed: ention to adopt me and make me ee. “It , “if I er, or sitting like a second Danae e to Madeira t I get ell my uncle Joo be married, and to  of one day bringing Mr. Rocer an accession of fortune, I could better endure to be kept by  relieved by t to execute t day), I ventured once more to meet my master’s and lover’s eye, inaciously souged bot an mig, besto it back to e pressure.

    “You need not look in t  my old Loo ter. I’ll be married in t of te series of coats out of tin.”

    is rico see and ? I  exctle Englisurk’s whole seraglio, gazelle-eyes, houri forms, and all!”

    tern allusion bit me again. “I’ll not stand you an incead of a seraglio,” I said; “so don’t consider me an equivalent for one. If you  line, ao tamboul  delay, and lay out in extensive slave-purc spare cas a loss to spend satisfactorily here.”

    “And ,  of bl