If nothing else had clinched that, the purse had. Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. The next weekend arrived and she made her decision. She recalled him. "Yes; I know I look it," said O'Higgins, amiably. " "You believe it, father?" "From the bottom of my heart. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street.
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