I sat within a few feet of him. “Sir John is a man of the world,” her aunt answered coldly. She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. "Your gratitude will vanish with your danger. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging. She saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. She ran down alleyways and between buildings, faster than an Olympian, until she could hear his voice no more. ‘The outcome, I think, is in very little doubt. ‘Anyhow, never mind that now. ’ He thought a wary look came into her face, but it was difficult to be sure. Why didn’t he die?” Anna sprang to her feet and walked restlessly up and down the room. 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.
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