"Stop a minute, my dear," cried Austin. . Here's a nosegay for you, my love," she continued, opening her basket, and presenting a fragrant bunch of flowers to Winifred, "if your mother will allow me to give it you. The floor was strewn with screws, nails, fragments of wood and stone, and across the passage lay the heavy iron fillet. I'll be quiet. So the talk went on, and presently they were criticising novelists, and certain daring essays of Wilkins got their due share of attention, and then they were discussing the future of the theatre. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold.
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