And in the vestry was the sword of monsieur le major. The present divinity of the cellar was a comely middle-aged dame, almost as stout, and quite as shrill-voiced, as the Billingsgate fish-wives above-mentioned, Mrs. " "Not quite, I hope," rejoined Sheppard. . " "You are heiress to the Trenchard property," rejoined Jonathan, "one of the largest estates in Lancashire. " And he struck up the following ballad:— SAINT GILES'S BOWL. I have healed and I am still your wife!\" She looked at him desperately, his eyes illuminated by firelight. His demeanour then was sober enough to lend colour to that belief.
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