I must go perhaps in all the rooms. Byrom,—a poet of whom his native town, Manchester, may be justly proud; and his features and figure have been preserved by the most illustrious of his companions on the present occasion,—Hogarth,—in the levée in the "Rake's Progress," and in "Southwark Fair. Love stories!… A sob rushed into her throat, and to smother it she buried her face in a pillow. To-night all this may seem hard and cruel. The place was crowded, and the people about her were almost equally made up of very goodlooking and enthusiastic young people and a great variety of Goopes-like types. But there was an abiding serpent in this Eden. More than half the city perished. Don’t leave me in this beastly thing.
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