At length, when he was running over the advertisements, his eye seemed to be caught by something that suggested a new thought to him.

He presently thumped the table with an air of exultation, and, said turning to Janet,--'I've a capital idea, Gypsy!' (that was his name for his dark-eyed wife when he was in an extraordinarily good humour), 'and you shall help me.

It's just what you're up to.' 'What is it ?' said Janet, her face beaming at the sound of the pet name, now heard so seldom.

'Anything to do with conveyancing ?' 'It's a bit of fun worth a dozen fees--a plan for raising a laugh against Tryan and his gang of hypocrites.' 'What is it?
Nothing that wants a needle and thread hope, else I must go and tease mother.' 'No, nothing sharper than your wit--except mine.

I'll tell you what it is.