Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. "You'll find her quiet enough to-day, Sir," observed the woman, as they walked along; "but she has been very outrageous latterly. ” Ennison shrugged his shoulders. “Call me Cathy, John. Wood, furiously.
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