signed to the cabman, who gathered up the reins and held them clear of
his fare's damaged hat with the gratification of a man whose judgment in
a delicate matter had just been signally confirmed by events.

As they started, Susanna made a dash at the cab, which was pulled up,
amid a shout from the crowd, just in time to prevent an accident. Then,
holding on to the rail and standing on the step, she addressed herself
to the cabman, and, sacrificing all propriety of language to intensity
of vituperation, demanded whether he wanted to run his cab over her body
and kill her. He, with undisturbed foresight, answered not a word, but
again shifted the reins so as to make way for her bonnet. Acknowledging
the attention with one more epithet, she seated herself in the cab, from
which Marmaduke at once indignantly rose to escape. But the hardiest
Grasmere wrestler, stooping under the hood of a hansom, could not resist
a vigorous pull at his coat tails; and Marmaduke was presently back in
his seat again, with Susanna clinging to him and half sobbing:

"Oh, Bob, youve killed me. How could you?" Then, with a suspiciously
sudden recovery of energy, she screamed "Bijou Theatre. Drive on, will
you" up at the cabman, who was looking down through the trapdoor. The
horse plunged forward, and, with the jolt, she was fawning on
Marmaduke's arm again, saying, "Dont be brutal to me any more, Bob. I
cant bear it. I have enough trouble without your turning on me."

He was young and green, and too much confused by this time to feel sure
that he had not been the aggressor. But he did, on the whole, the wisest
thing--folded his arms and sat silent, with his cheeks burning.

"Say something to me," she said, shaking his arm. "I have nothing to
say," he replied. "I shall leave town for home to-night. I cant shew my