8. She was sorry for his liking her too much for his own good, but her need was too desperate to cavil at turning it to useful account. She returned home through a world that was as roseate as it had been gray overnight. I am not come here to play the part of your father-confessor. ‘You have not the right. He too looked at the girl, slackened his pace and looked at her again through his eye-glasses, looked over his shoulder after he had passed, and finally came to a dead stop. And, turning to his daughter, he gave the necessary directions in a low tone. She made a step forward. This, then, must be the person whom he had seen spring upon the western platform at the time of the collision between the boats. Her bonnet dropped off and was trampled into the gutter. On the same day, moreover, which, by a curious coincidence, was the birthday of the Chevalier de Saint George, mobs were collected together in the streets, and the health of that prince was publicly drunk under the title of James the Third; while, in many country towns, the bells were rung, and rejoicings held, as if for a reigning monarch:—the cry of the populace almost universally being, "No King George, but a Stuart!" The adherents of the Chevalier de Saint George, we have said, were lavish in promises to their proselytes.
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