‘Now what?’ The girl’s voice was shaking, and there were, he saw now, angry tears in her eyes. She had found him! Excitement welled. From what do you wish to be rescued?’ The girl fluttered her eyelashes, sighed dramatically and spread her hands. "Lost no time on the road—eh!—I didn't expect you till to-morrow at the earliest. It appeared he had already ordered dinner and wine, and the whiskered waiter waved in his subordinate with the soup forthwith. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. "Aha! my lad!" he cried without appearing to regard the pain of the wound; "now I'll show you no quarter. She tried gentle words with him, beguiling perfumes, even slipped aphrodisiac tisanes into his soup. "Let us in," said the Master, rapping his truncheon authoritatively against the boards, "or we'll force an entrance. Aunt and niece regarded each other silently. “We’re going to be found out someday.
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