Kneebone, he took his departure. Bird, the turner, to give him an order this evening. Sheppard, you mean, Sir," interrupted his wife, ironically. “Next door,” said a spectacled young person of seventeen or eighteen, with an impatient indication of the direction. The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. " "How!" ejaculated Trenchard, starting back and drawing his sword. Immediately behind this individual, came a pale, poverty-stricken woman, whose forlorn aspect contrasted strongly with his plump and comfortable physiognomy.