I came all the way over here to inspect you, my dear, with the general

idea of breaking off this match if there were two fools of you, but as

there's only one, you can have him if you'll take him."

"Indeed I will, then! May I kiss you?"

"You may. Thank you. Now you shall have that privilege whenever you are

good."

Meantime Hawkins had long ago returned and slipped up into the

laboratory. He was rather disconcerted to find his late invention,

Snodgrass, there. The news was told him that the English Rossmore was

come.

--"And I'm his son, Viscount Berkeley, not Howard Tracy any more."

Hawkins was aghast. He said:

Good gracious, then you're dead!"

Dead?"

Yes you are--we've got your ashes."

Hang those ashes, I'm tired of them; I'll give them to my father."

291

The American Claimant