I could tell it was Italian, you see. On the contrary, he was a universal favourite, and numbered amongst his intimate acquaintances the choicest spirits of the time,—Pope, Swift, Arbuthnot, and "all the better brothers. " "Thank God for that!" cried Wood, heartily. “There is my aunt,” she said. Just then—I was nervous. " "Won't my life do as well as his?" supplicated the other. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. Sheppard, fixing her glazing eyes upon him.
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