‘Here, miss,’ came faintly from somewhere close at hand. Ann Veronica had no answer for a moment. She felt that there was a hidden meaning under his words. 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. ” And Ann Veronica at once went back with the hold-all, trying not to hurry indecently but to keep up her dignified air of being a wronged person doing the right thing at a smart trot, to pack. She was emerging from the primordial as Spurlock was declining toward it. “So you come from Anna, do you?” she remarked. He was tall and straight, and his expression was good. "Ha! say you so? You must be looked to. “You are their friend, then?” “I am,” Courtlaw answered. The G. “He means nothing!” She whispered loudly.
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