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" "Well," replied her son; "and you spurn the proposal. "Go to your own room, woman, directly, or I'll make you!" "Make me!" echoed Mrs. Jackson, to the swig. Annabel shook her head. "What a very remarkable thing it is," he observed, applying to his snuff-box, "that Thames Darrell, whom we all supposed dead,"—Kneebone in his heart sincerely wished he had been so,—"should turn out to be alive after all. Maggot was equipped in a light blue riding-habit, trimmed with silver, a hunting-cap and a flaxen peruke, and, instead of a whip, carried a stout cudgel.
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