Someone was coming out of the house. Wood. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. ” Horace, the manservant, transformed now into the semblance of a correctly garbed waiter, threw open the door. He then stamped upon the hand on the lower bannister, until that also relaxed its gripe. She drew in a deep breath of the sweet mountain air. While he was meditating flight in this way, and tossing about on the straw, he chanced upon an old broken and rusty fork. "Your ladyship is far too unwell to travel," remarked the female attendant, assisting her to rise; "you'll never be able to reach Manchester.
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