She had thought that all Morningside Park householders came home before seven at the latest, as her father usually did. "Close the wicket, Austin," vociferated Ireton, in an authoritative tone. "Hear the letter," said Ireton, breaking the seal. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. It might as well be Melusine herself. I wonder. "Most persons would have guessed my meaning.
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