From first to last, on this occasion, her aunt expostulated for about two hours. Instead of which they walked sharply. I have brought disgrace upon you, and I haven’t been the right sort of wife at all. The discussion wandered, and was punctuated with bread and butter. Wood—" "That's false!" cried a voice behind him. She shuddered; the room was unfamiliar and unwelcoming. He offered me at once an engagement. 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. ” “Perhaps,” she said, “I am superstitious.
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