"Be silent," said Jonathan, in a menacing whisper. Anna was more difficult. Please sit with me. Do you know, Lady Ferringhall, I am proud that your sister permits me to call myself her friend. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. What she did not know, and what she was never to know, was that the divine fire was hers. I simply warn you. But threats and entreaties—even promises were ineffectual; and the unlucky captive, after exhausting his powers of persuasion, was compelled to give up the point. Some of your sex, I mean. .
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