Ennison listened, and his eyes glowed. The young ladies in the somewhat mixed society amongst which he moved neither satisfied his taste nor appealed in any way to his affections. ” “Heavens!” the lady exclaimed. Here he halted; and, looking upwards, read, at the foot of an immense sign-board, displaying a gaudily-painted angel with expanded pinions and an olive-branch, not the name he expected to find, but that of WILLIAM KNEEBONE, WOOLLENDRAPER. ’ ‘Get rid of the wench,’ Roding said brutally. The fates are never so kind to me.
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