I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. As to the picture, I'll keep it myself, though, if you do go I shall need no memorial of you. He took her hands firmly in his and raised them to his lips. He continued alternately to be tossed in the air, or rolled in the kennel until he was borne out of sight. I hope I may never come near her. Now for it, Thames! Make as great a row as you can to divert his attention. As he entered the shop, a tall portly personage advanced to meet him, whom he at once recognised as the present proprietor. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation.
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