" "Won't one from me do as well?" interposed Mrs. There was no one at all in this room, but through the half-open door of one of the small apartments that gave upon it she had a glimpse of two very young girls sitting at a littered table and writing briskly. “And now, look at us! See what we have become. "Nobody composes any more, nobody paints, nobody writes—I mean, on a par with what we've just heard. She rang again with the same result. 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. She looked at her flattened belly. But your face! What happened here just before I came?" "Perhaps God wasn't quite sure that I could hold what I had, and wanted to try me out. She came very near that night to resolving that she would return to her home next morning.
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