This at once thrilled her and worried her. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly. The prison gates were besieged like the entrance of a booth at a fair; and the Condemned Hold where he was confined, and to which visitors were admitted at the moderate rate of a guinea a-head, had quite the appearance of a showroom. And that happens through our maternity; it’s our very importance that degrades us. Well, let him be honest. Edgeworth Bess wore a scarlet tabby negligée,—a sort of undress, or sack, then much in vogue,—which suited her to admiration, and upon her head had what was called a fly-cap, with richly-laced lappets. E.
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