Straw and other combustibles being collected, were placed in the middle of the audiencechamber. . ’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. Wood,—Winifred fainted in the arms of a female attendant,—and Wood standing beside them almost in a state of distraction. "Good gracious! so I do," exclaimed his amiable consort. Their colorful displays seemed to repel the dreariness of the sky as each group savored its long awaited moment, its weekend arrival in front of the opposite sex. “Hi Lucy. Wood.
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