“Too greasy for me. "But to the point," continued Wild, unconscious of the peril in which the remark had placed him,—"to the point. And then presently these clouds began to wear thin and expose steep, deep slopes, going down and down, with grass and pine-trees, down and down, and at last, through a great rent in the clouds, bare roofs, shining like very minute pin-heads, and a road like a fibre of white silk-Macugnana, in Italy. Voilà tout. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. "Shall I shoot him?" "Yes! yes! put it to his ear!" cried Mrs. " "But she would understand you; whereas she will never understand her father. ‘It weren’t my wish, miss, I can tell you that. "I do," replied Sheppard. " "You have no son," rejoined Sir Rowland, moodily. They all stay!” “And you yourself?” Brendon laughed. ’ She bit her lip, but her eyes betrayed her. ” She nodded. She recalled him. Automatically, she glanced at the slight red graze left on her neck that marked the point where Gerald’s sword had nicked her.
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