“Oh yes,” said Miss Klegg; “I thought every one knew. . With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose. Not daring, however, to listen to it, he ran on. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. What was she going to do? One main idea possessed her: she must get away from home, she must assert herself at once or perish. He got up brusquely. Leonardo was to me nothing at all. Mr.
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