" Sister Prudence looked at Sister Angelina, who understood what was expected of her. Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing. To these she added the wine and spirits directed, and when all was arranged looked inquisitively at her master. His tone changed, becoming a little more moderate. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL. "Quite sorry, my good friend, there should have been any misunderstanding between us," observed the woollen-draper. She handled it half fearfully, and set it carefully down again. Her body went into spasm.
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