Mr. Jinks is happy, radiant, triumphant, and as he watches the
retreating wooer, his frame shakes with sombre merriment. Then he
turns toward the window, and laughs with cautious dignity.
The lady, who is just closing the window, starts and utters an
exclamation of affright. This, however, is disregarded by Mr. Jinks,
who draws near, and stands beneath the window.
Mistress O'Calligan considers it necessary to state that she is in
such a taking, and to ask who could have thought it. Mr. Jinks does
not directly reply to this question, but, reaching up, hands in the
bundle, and commences a whispered conversation. The lady is doubtful,
fearful--Mr. Jinks grows more eloquent. Finally, the lady melts, and
when Mr. Jinks clasps, rapturously, the red hand hanging out, he has
triumphed.
In fifteen minutes he is on his way back to the tavern, chuckling,
shaking, and triumphant.
All is prepared.
CHAPTER LXII.
VERTY MUSES.
Let us now leave the good old town of Winchester, and go into the
hills, where the brilliant autumn morning reigns, splendid and
vigorous.
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