Byrom,—a poet of whom his native town, Manchester, may be justly proud; and his features and figure have been preserved by the most illustrious of his companions on the present occasion,—Hogarth,—in the levée in the "Rake's Progress," and in "Southwark Fair. "Plague on't!" added he: "I never meant to take your babby from you. She recognized the face but could not quite place it. By his side sat a remarkably stout dame, to whom he paid as much attention as it was in his iron nature to pay. Will you be a faithful and honest wife? Will you do your duty by him, and forget all your past follies? Unless, Annabel, you can——” “Oh, I will pledge you my word,” Annabel cried passionately, “my solemn word. Slowly, he drew back his head and looked into her face.
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