Her hair was gathered up behind, in a sort of pad, according to the then prevailing mode; and she wore a muslin cap, and pinners with crow-foot edging. "O, lud!" she cried; "French noblemen in disguise! and so rude as I was! I shall never recover it!" "A good supper will set all to rights," insinuated Kneebone. It was you who were so much amazed that I did not try—the music hall stage here. She had come to the end of her resources. ‘Oh, dearie me, you make me feel a traitor.
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