A rare moment of amusement lightened Melusine’s mood for a moment. 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. He was staring at her, openly gaping. "Do you hear that! We are not wholly at fault. All bad verse—originally the epigram was Lang’s, I believe—is written in a state of emotion. What is it?" "Guess," rejoined Blueskin, attempting to throw a gallant expression into his forbidding countenance. "Close the door!" commanded Trenchard, impatiently. The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. ” It was her last evening in that wrappered life against which she had rebelled. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish.
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