‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. By and by the tramp of horses' feet was heard slowly ascending Snow Hill, and presently a troop of grenadier guards rode into the area facing Newgate. “You are so inherently gallant, John, so pure of heart. Her eyes filled as she thought of him, the image of his laughing countenance coming into her mind, to be swiftly followed by a vision of the blood running from his cut hand. My letters are returned unopened, her maid will not even allow me across the doorstep.
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