“Come,” he said, “you can’t be meaning to bury yourself. The latter seemed inclined to advance and address the former; but suddenly changing his mind, he shouted to his companion in tones familiar to the stranger's ear; and, striking spurs into his steed, dashed off at full speed along the Edgeware Road. They shall hear of me no more. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold. "Thames was just observing—" "Thames!" echoed Mrs. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. I seed he was one,—and a sharp un, too,—at a glance.
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