Edgeworth Bess wore a scarlet tabby negligée,—a sort of undress, or sack, then much in vogue,—which suited her to admiration, and upon her head had what was called a fly-cap, with richly-laced lappets. To her horror she realized that she had nearly forgotten how to kiss after a years-long dry spell, and she could detect drool on her own chin and John’s cheek. She loved the market, the horses trotting about, the bishops forced to be on the same road with old washer-women, the fools begging for a Florin or a ducat. ” “Isn’t it.
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