’ ‘Good. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. ’ Melusine turned her head. There was no one to be seen. Wood in very characteristic attitudes, occupied a prominent place on the walls. “Her ladyship dined at home,” the man answered. It was true. His eyes were bright with the hunt. Vanity was a vice not just to be deprecated, but effectively strangled at birth. From this sorrowful state he was aroused by a loud derisive whistle, followed by a still louder laugh; and, looking up, he beheld the impudent countenance of Jack Sheppard immediately before him. She took it for granted Ann Veronica wore stays—mild stays, perhaps, but stays, and thought no more of the matter.
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