" "When will you want me?"—with pitiful eagerness. “Please hurry. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. He beamed a little as she disappeared into the orchestra room, a cacophony of tuning instruments. Sheppard, averting her face to hide her tears. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. The girl was flushed with excitement, bright-eyed, and braced for a struggle; her aunt had never seen her looking so fine or so pretty. I've combed HongKong.
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