The gate was opened; the coffin brought into the churchyard; and Jack, whose eyes were filled with tears, saw Mr. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. They reached Wimbledon, and Ramage whipped out to hand Miss Stanley to the platform as though she had been a duchess, and she descended as though such attentions from middle-aged, but still gallant, merchants were a matter of course. ’ No Latin? And no guns or daggers, naturally. ” “I believe you,” she murmured.
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