Piercing through every crevice in the clothes, it, in some cases, tore them from the wearer's limbs, or from his grasp. A stout female stood in the aperture, an oil lamp in her hand. Ann Veronica had come down thinking of nothing in the world but her inflexible resolution to go to the dance in the teeth of all opposition. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. “Lady Ferringhall, sir. We leave England to-night. She speedily reached her own abode,—a little cottage, standing in the outskirts of the village.
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