“Lady Mackinnor,” she said, “I am sure that you must have heard of Mr. You desire to know who he was, Sir Rowland. Entering London, he bent his way towards the west-end; and having some knowledge of a secondhand tailor's shop in Rupert Street, proceeded thither, and looked out a handsome suit of mourning, with a sword, cloak, and hat, and demanded the price. Regardless as the gentry of the Mint usually were (for, indeed, they had become habituated from their frequent occurrence to such scenes,) of any outrages committed in their streets; deaf, as they had been, to the recent scuffle before Mrs. Wood. ‘I do not wish to hear any more reasons so foolish, so do not trouble to think of them. You are all that I am or hope to be—the celestial atom God put into me at the beginning.
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