” “Heavens!” the lady exclaimed. Lucy spoke once they had turned the corner. It was now evident that he had not been normal that first day. His features were regular, and finely-formed; his complexion bright and blooming,—a little shaded, however, by travel and exposure to the sun; and, with a praiseworthy contempt for the universal and preposterous fashion then prevailing, of substituting a peruke for the natural covering of the head, he allowed his own dark-brown hair to fall over his shoulders in ringlets as luxuriant as those that distinguished the court gallant in Charles the Second's days—a fashion, which we do not despair of seeing revived in our own days. Then, naturally, I went on talking. You are an artist by the Divine right of birth, but whatever form of expression may come to you at some time it will not be painting. 1. Come and see him, Lucia. What has become of the other?" "Why, surely you don't mean Jack Sheppard?" cried the woollen-draper in surprise. It was one of those old sliding trap affairs, narrow and steep of descent.
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