I'm a poor nurse. " "Most likely," observed Jonathan, with a slight sneer; "the ghost of some highwayman who has just breathed his last in Newgate, no doubt. Ah! she looks this way, and puts her finger to her lips. Pragmar, the wholesale druggist, who lived three gardens away, and who had been mowing his lawn to get an appetite for dinner, standing in a fascinated attitude beside the forgotten lawn-mower and watching her intently. As her belly swelled, so did he. Nothing would stop her, and she was prepared to face the consequences. Soon, they fattened up, their cheeks rosy and their hair shining. “You know about my scandalous past?” “Very little.
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