‘It is seldom enough I am visited by anyone at all, let alone a personable young redcoat. Miss Ellicot, who sang ballads, and liked Brendon to turn over the pages for her, tossed her head. 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. On the Day he had trumpet-like outbreaks of cordiality, varied by a watchful preoccupation. ‘You cannot read my mind at all, monsieur.
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