On beholding the intruders, his fears changed to exultation, and he uttered a roar of satisfaction as he glared at them, which could only be likened to the cry of some savage denizen of the plains. But you, Ferringhall, our pattern, an erstwhile Sheriff of London, a county magistrate, a prospective politician, a sober and an upright man, one who, had he aspired to it, might even have filled the glorious position of Lord Mayor— James, a whisky and Apollinaris at once. And now—Dear! Dear! The dayspring from on high hath visited me. Almost at the same moment the door opened and Brendon entered, followed by the doctor. Oh! you haven't got the key—then I must have it, I suppose. " "There isn't an angel in heaven, Ruth, purer or sweeter than you are. ” The sensation produced was gratifying enough. He sat up in his chair again, the colour came back to his cheeks.
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