“Alone, dear?” “Yes, aunt. 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. This intelligence, which she instantly communicated to the carpenter, drove him almost frantic. There was a new softness in her eyes, a hesitation, a timidity about her manner which was almost pathetic. But to draw the attention of the milice, no, that is not at all desirable. 1. I suppose this is what she learns in her infernal London colleges.
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