” “Very sad—very sad indeed,” he remarked uneasily. The boat in which he rode was not overset. ” “I was turned shortly after the Pestilence, the plague that they call the Black Death. And all the old—the old trick of shrinking up like a snail at a touch. . “Splendid you are looking to-day, Miss Stanley,” he said. ‘Unless he is himself a man of substance. Urging his steed along Oxford Road,— as that great approach to the metropolis was then termed,—he soon passed Marylebone Lane, beyond which, with the exception of a few scattered houses, the country was completely open on the right, and laid out in pleasant fields and gardens; nor did he draw in the rein until he arrived at Tyburn-gate, where, before he turned off upon the Edgeware Road, he halted for a moment, to glance at the place of execution. “For me there is no second turn. He went more easily this time. " Pain was stabbing him, now here, now there; pain was real enough; but he could not establish as a fact in his throbbing brain the presence of his aunt in the doorway. Their faces were masks of abject horror, sunken and shriveled, their cheekbones protruding. Prudence was the substance and Angelina the shadow; for Angelina never offered opinions, she only agreed with those advanced by Prudence. How Jack Sheppard's Portrait was painted. Goodbye.
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