‘Seems to me, missie, as you’re as dangerous a female as I’m like to see. You’re of age— you’re of age. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. One keeps rules in order to be one’s self. "Women must have their wills while they live, since they can make none when they die," observed Wood, as he imprinted a kiss of reconciliation on the plump hand of his consort;—a sentiment to the correctness of which the party chiefly interested graciously vouchsafed her assent.
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