I fought. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. ‘I agree with you. ” She looked at him with fluttering eyelids—sweetly grateful. On taxing his recollection, the whole circumstance rushed to mind with painful distinctness. When he tried the scullery door, and would have moved on, Hilary intervened. 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. Miss Charvill.
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