" "No more of this," said Winifred, angrily. Much too formal for a cosy chat between old friends. From this perturbed state he was roused by thoughts of his mother, and fancying he heard her gentle voice urging him on to fresh exertion, he started up. ” He sidled toward her, but she recoiled from him, leaving him in possession of the hearth-rug. Gay, the poet, who wrote the 'Captives,' which was lately acted at Drury Lane, and was so much admired by the Princess of Wales. “We will take it then,” he said, “that you have refused or ignored one request I have made you this morning. “Ye Gods!” she said at last. Hear me, adorable girl! You know not the extent of my devotion.
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