" "Pray, let me have a pinch!" said Edgeworth Bess, with a captivating glance. She looked up and said, a little breathlessly, “I’m sorry, aunt, but I don’t think I can. His features were regular, and finely-formed; his complexion bright and blooming,—a little shaded, however, by travel and exposure to the sun; and, with a praiseworthy contempt for the universal and preposterous fashion then prevailing, of substituting a peruke for the natural covering of the head, he allowed his own dark-brown hair to fall over his shoulders in ringlets as luxuriant as those that distinguished the court gallant in Charles the Second's days—a fashion, which we do not despair of seeing revived in our own days. Ann Veronica was apologetic to the bottom of her soul. ‘A devil is just what you are. You have not considered the advantages. Her sense of humour could not wholly resist his abnormal gravity. “Sure, I guess so. We're to be given a treat to-night. Saint Giles's Round-house.
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