the value of money.--Speculative tendencies of the time.

Whatever the shock which the brutality of the Remorseless Baron inflicted
on the nervous system of the persecuted but triumphant Bandit, it had
certainly subsided by the time Vance and Lionel entered Waife's
apartment; for they found grandfather and grandchild seated near the open
window, at the corner of the table (on which they had made room for their
operations by the removal of the carved cocoanut, the crystal egg, and
the two flower-pots), eagerly engaged, with many a silvery laugh from the
lips of Sophy, in the game of dominos.

Mr. Waife had been devoting himself, for the last hour and more, to the
instruction of Sophy in the mysteries of that intellectual amusement; and
such pains did he take, and so impressive were his exhortations, that his
happy pupil could not help thinking to herself that this was the new art
upon which Waife depended for their future livelihood. She sprang up,
however, at the entrance of the visitors, her face beaming with grateful
smiles; and, running to Lionel and taking him by the hand, while she
courtesied with more respect to Vance, she exclaimed, "We are free!
thanks to you, thanks to you both! He is gone! Mr. Rugge is gone!"

"So I saw on passing the green; stage and all," said Vance, while Lionel
kissed the child and pressed her to his side. It is astonishing how
paternal he felt,--how much she had crept into his heart.

"Pray, sir," asked Sophy, timidly, glancing to Vance, "has the Norfolk
Giant gone too?"

VANCE.--"I fancy so--all the shows were either gone or going."