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. “I’ve been playing since I was five, Lucy! You’re just more talented than I am. ’ ‘Parbleu,’ exclaimed the girl, jumping up in some dudgeon. An ordinary type, of course—” Mrs. Pragmar, the wholesale druggist, who lived three gardens away, and who had been mowing his lawn to get an appetite for dinner, standing in a fascinated attitude beside the forgotten lawn-mower and watching her intently. It had been intensified and corrupted by time, as if to add insult to injury.
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