She got home every night in time to cook supper and it was good money. What our dear mother would say back home I dread to think. ’ She shrugged fatalistically. ToC Nearly nine years after the events last recorded, and about the middle of May, 1724, a young man of remarkably prepossessing appearance took his way, one afternoon, along Wych Street; and, from the curiosity with which he regarded the houses on the left of the road, seemed to be in search of some particular habitation. She glanced towards her sister, and curiously enough found in her face some faint reflection of her own rather sombre mirth. ” “That is another French custom,” he remarked, “which is not so agreeable. I have never in my life been so much puzzled by any one as by your sister. “It was your own fault,” she exclaimed.
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