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Then to the Feathers, in Drury Lane. The very old lady in the antimacassar touched Ann Veronica’s arm suddenly, and said, in a deep, arch voice: “Talking of love again; spring again, love again. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. " "'Zounds!" cried the executioner, in astonishment. "You remember that starling, Sir Rowland," he said maliciously, "and what occurred on it, twelve years ago?" "Too well," answered the knight, frowning. "Stop a minute," cried Jack, detaining his mistresses. ‘Come, cry a truce.
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