Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. “Close your eyes. The clever hostess having let fall that several distinguished guests from France would be present, the world had flocked to her doors to catch, like the gossip-hungry vultures they were, a glimpse of them. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. "I shouldn't wonder," replied Mrs. "Beat down their blades," cried the Master; "no bloodshed.
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