“It was a plot amongst them all to humiliate her. They were so good to me. She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. "Granted it were as you say, Jack," said Wild;—"and I sha'n't take the trouble to contradict you—the estates would be yours hereafter. We remember it. "I wouldn't give a betel-nut for a man who wouldn't stick to his guns, if he believed himself in the right. The estates must, ere long, revert to Sir Rowland. "Do not despair, my sweet soul," said Wood, in a soothing tone. .
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