"Mercy on us! what have I said!" cried the attendant, greatly alarmed by the agitation of her mistress; "do sit down, your ladyship, while I run for the ratifia and rosa solis. She simply refuses to see or hear from me again. ’ Upon which, she darted through the library door, galvanising both the sergeant and his two militiamen into action. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace. Wood's ornaments and wearing apparel, they prepared to depart. The primitive superstition of his Puritan forbears was his; and before this the buckler of his education disintegrated.
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