The ladies were, as usual, very gaily dressed; and as usual, also, had resorted to art to heighten their attractions— From patches, justly placed, they borrow'd graces, And with vermilion lacquer'd o'er their faces. Plote was sleeping or deaf. The iron slipped from his face, leaving it blank with astonishment. “You see, father,” she said, “it isn’t only this affair of the dance. “Hello, John. "Don't be angry with me, Thames," continued Sheppard, in a tone calculated, as he thought, to appease his companion's indignation.
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