Gerald’s task was to stop him from doing so. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. "No, lad," said McClintock, his tone becoming kindly. And opposite to him, with a book in his hand,—but it couldn't be a prayer-book,—sat Jonathan Wild, in a parson's cassock and band. She was in excellent spirits, and it was not until she had taken off her hat, and was considering the question of dinner or no dinner, that she remembered that another day had passed, and she was not a whit nearer being able to pay her tomorrow’s bill. But I was portentous, I can assure you. But don't suppose, Madam, that anything I say has reference to you.
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