No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. The telegram reminded Ann Veronica that she had no place for interviews except her bed-sitting-room, and she sought her landlady and negotiated hastily for the use of the ground floor parlor, which very fortunately was vacant. "But this need give you no uneasiness," pursued Jonathan; "Mrs. Earles himself stood upon the threshold of his sanctum, the prototype of the smart natty Jew, with black hair, waxed moustache, and a wired flower in his button-hole. Her cogitations were dissipated by a knock on the door. "Good gracious! so I do," exclaimed his amiable consort. “To begin with, I was—I was in the divorce court. His bodily suffering, however, was nothing compared with his mental anguish. O God! O God!" And he appeared convulsed with agony. He displayed a quite unprofessional vein of mysticism in the matter. “You silly creatures! Ugh! Fie upon you!” The court was crowded with people, for the most part supporters and admirers of the defendants, and the man with the light eyelashes was conspicuously active and omnipresent. That old world that had shoved up that silly old hotel, and all the rest of it. Spurling, (for she it was,) either by her attractions of purse or person, had succeeded in moving the stony heart of Mr. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Michelle, I truly don’t.
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