Suddenly she thrust her head out of the window. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. Lucy arranged her hair as Michelle had taught her instead of combing it out. 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. “I want you so much, Lucy. "What is it?" demanded the woollen-draper, as he returned to the table, and took up a glass.
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