Here he halted; and, looking upwards, read, at the foot of an immense sign-board, displaying a gaudily-painted angel with expanded pinions and an olive-branch, not the name he expected to find, but that of WILLIAM KNEEBONE, WOOLLENDRAPER. "He's a base, deceitful, tyrannical, hoary-headed libertine—that's what he is. . “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. "Certainly not," replied Gay. “If any one should know——you should! He was your friend. "Don't ask me about it now. ’ ‘Aye, more’s the pity. ’ Lucy giggled.
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