“You look great, Lucy. “Nigel is like all men,” Lady Lescelles continued. Maggot, who promptly interposed her cudgel. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. Then the long lashes sank demurely over them. . She was trembling a little.
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