Her lover, Darrell, has embarked upon the Thames, where, if he's not capsized by the squall, (for it's blowing like the devil,) he stands a good chance of getting his throat cut by his pursuers—ha! ha! I tracked 'em to the banks of the river, and should have followed to see it out, if the watermen hadn't refused to take me. ‘Parbleu,’ came indignantly from the lady. These sham ideals and advanced notions. It resembled Mardi Gras, and she thought disdainfully of New Orleans. Perhaps I deceived you about it. " "I liked that, too," she replied; "but it wasn't that I had in mind. " "Fine! I'll be wanting a guide. “No,” she answered. “Don’t you understand? It is I whom you cared for in Paris, not Anna. I am on my way to an aunt who lives in Hartford, Connecticut.
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