She said that your mother was only fifteen when she went to live with them. A doubt as to your dinner to-morrow would make you miserable to-night. Jack was completely overcome. How she had coveted her mother’s beauty and sought to emulate it, if only to please her. “Who, me? I scare you?” He asked. 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. "Look quick, Blueskin, and be cursed to you!" was growled in the deep tones of Jonathan Wild. ’ ‘By all means,’ agreed Lucy at once, and ignoring the automatic protest that issued from Roding’s lips, she threw a command over her shoulder as she turned to go.
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