By this time Capes’ hair had bleached nearly white, and his skin had become a skin of red copper shot with gold. " "I see through your design, Jack," returned the carpenter, gravely; "but I don't like under-hand work. " "Be pleased, then, in future not to let your surprise find vent in words," rejoined Jonathan, sternly. If the young ladies were dowerless, which seemed likely, their attire at least—so Lucilla assured him in a whisper—was of the first stare. Laughed at me, then. . '" "Let me see," cried Jack, snatching the paper, and eagerly perusing the advertisement. " "Sir Rowland Trenchard!" echoed Jack, in amazement. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village. " "Give them to me," replied Jack.
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