As soon as the cavalcade stopped, the sexton advanced, and, ringing a handbell, pronounced the following admonition. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. “And so you have been thinking?” her father began, quoting her letter and looking over his slanting glasses at her. Then before she could say a word to arrest him he was at her side. ‘Don’t try to turn it off,’ ordered Miss Froxfield. ’ At last. Seeing Capes from day to day made a bright eventfulness that hampered her in the course she had resolved to follow. Bravo!—the best cly-faker of 'em all couldn't have done it better.
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