At the threshold of the study he bade her good-night; but he did not touch her forehead with his lips. " "It's Jonathan Wild," returned the widow, endeavouring to alarm him. She was powerless to move from her chair. Thames took it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently—judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud and patrician features certainly presented a very striking resemblance to his own. She never expected to get her ladyship home alive. Following his guide, Sir Rowland found himself in a large and lofty apartment, the extent of which he could not entirely discern until lights were set upon the table. It was as if Grace-church Street, with all its shops, its magazines, and ceaseless throng of passengers, were stretched from the Middlesex to the Surrey shore. Lucy entered the room. So she approached him with sandwiches. "It is not too late to repair the wrong I have done my nephew," cried Trenchard.
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