“Both. "We have had a sad loss, my dear Winifred," he began,—"for I must use the privilege of an old friend, and address you by that familiar name,—we have had a sad loss in the death of your lamented parent, whose memory I shall for ever revere. Byrom,—a poet of whom his native town, Manchester, may be justly proud; and his features and figure have been preserved by the most illustrious of his companions on the present occasion,—Hogarth,—in the levée in the "Rake's Progress," and in "Southwark Fair. Against the walls hung an assortment of staves, brown-bills, (weapons then borne by the watch,) muskets, handcuffs, great-coats, and lanterns. “Yes, aren’t they?” said Ann Veronica, after a thoughtful pause. Such names shone brightly in the darkness, with black spaces of unilluminated emptiness about them, as stars shine in the night; but now—now it was different; now it was dawn—the real dawn. Her eyebrows were lifted in expostulation. Brendon looked across the room at her thoughtfully.
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