The young man entered into a lively little war of words with a yellow-haired young person near the door. “This is all very well,” she said, “but two out of the three are rank deserters— and if the papers tell the truth the third is as bad. 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. He certainly bore inspection. ‘How could you possibly know it?’ ‘I know it,’ Lucilla told him frostily, ‘because Dorothée told me that Madame Valade went off with Gerald positively purring in her ear—which is a thing he never does—and came back with him looking like the cat after cream. Kneebone he's not here. But—but how?’ ‘Can you write?’ Gerald asked, digging into one of his capacious pockets and bringing out a leather ring purse. " "But not for me," growled Terence, in an under tone. They found a cosy little table in the tea-rooms, and everything was delicious. We pretend we never think of everything that makes us what we are. If only—Anna, tell me,” she broke off suddenly, “how did you get to know Mr. “Really, Sir John,” she said, “I don’t know how to thank you. Your aunt liked the pheasant. “She’s all right.
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