. “I don’t know. —Sorry to quit your lord—worships, I mean,—I don't know what I mean," she added, a little confused, and dropping a profound curtsey to the disguised noblemen, each of whom replied by a bow, worthy, in her opinion, of a prince of the blood at the least,—"but I've a few necessary orders to give below. That paper must be signed, or I take my departure. It had, as it were, blown up at the concussion of his first step. " Mr. Aliva Trencher. She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. It was Blueskin. His face was half hidden under a freshly pipeclayed sola topee—sun-helmet.
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