At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. ’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. "Halloa!" exclaimed Austin, who had caught a glimpse of her departing figure, "one of the women is gone!" "No—no," hastily interposed Mrs. . ” “You shouldn’t have made an engagement until you’d consulted your aunt. Panting with effort, she held her point menacingly at Gosse’s chest. They shall hear of me no more.
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