“Oh, my dear!” she cried, and suddenly flung herself, kneeling, into her husband’s arms. A victim of one of those mental typhoons that scatter irretrievably the barriers of instinct and breeding; and he had gone on the rocks all in a moment. With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. "Attend to me, Mrs. Shari smiled and Mike whispered to her. "Added to which, she is neither so young as she was, nor, is her temper by any means improved—hem!" "Say no more on the subject, Sir," observed the stranger, gravely; "but let us turn to a more agreeable one—her daughter. "You mustn't talk any more; the excitement isn't good for you.
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