" "You shall be treated according to your deserts, then," said Jonathan, maliciously. She had the same sharp nose—which, indeed, only Ann Veronica, of all the family, had escaped. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. Jack was completely overcome. She had, by the magic of recollection, set the picture of the typhoon between herself and her table companions: the terrible rollers thundering on the white shore, the deafening bellow of the wind, the bending and snapping palms, the thatches of the native huts scattering inland, the blur of sand dust, and those two outcasts defying the elements. If so I shall have to leave.
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