Baptist Kettleby (for so was the Master named) was a "goodly portly man, and a corpulent," whose fair round paunch bespoke the affection he entertained for good liquor and good living. His glances were hard to disguise as he scanned her periodically during class. She recognized him as the man who had blundered into the wrong room. "The shoulder-clappers!" added a lady, who, in her anxiety to join the party, had unintentionally substituted her husband's nether habiliments for her own petticoats. "Now your curiosity's satisfied, child," continued Kneebone, "perhaps, you'll attend to my orders. ” “That sounds more promising,” Lady Lescelles declared. You have changed from the veriest butterfly to a woman—you wear different clothes, you have the air of another world. "I do," replied Kneebone. One studies Nature in order not to be blindly ruled by her. Tom Sheppard was always a close file, and would never tell whom he married. Mr. " "On the contrary," rejoined Smith, looking askance at his companion, "I happen to know you're in the right. Her mother missed writing for a week, and then she wrote in an unusual key. In a fit of despondency, superinduced by drunkenness, he made away with himself; and when the body was discovered, after a lapse of some months, such was the impression produced by the spectacle —such the alarm occasioned by the crazy state of the building, and, above all, by the terror inspired by strange and unearthly noises heard during the night, which were, of course, attributed to the spirit of the suicide, that the place speedily enjoyed the reputation of being haunted, and was, consequently, entirely abandoned.
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