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Thames took it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently—judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud and patrician features certainly presented a very striking resemblance to his own. “I looked for you on the way home from The Big Apple, where were you?” Lucy smiled. This person, whose age might be about forty, was attired in a brown double-breasted frieze coat, with very wide skirts, and a very narrow collar; a light drugget waistcoat, with pockets reaching to the knees; black plush breeches; grey worsted hose; and shoes with round toes, wooden heels, and high quarters, fastened by small silver buckles. I don't threaten idly, as you know. Her eyebrows, pulled down by the stress of thought, now resumed their normal arches; and pleased with her discovery, she smiled. Ann Veronica hesitated with a question that had leaped up in her mind, and that she felt was cruel. Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father. Spurlock plodded through the heavy sand, leaden in the heart and mind as well as in the feet.
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