A dark mass of wreckage, over which hung a slight mist of vapour, lay half in the ditch, half across the hedge, close under a tree from the trunk of which the bark had been torn and stripped. Gianfrancesco had told her about it, how he had played in it as a child with his brothers. 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. Then a hansom drove up, and his heart gave a great leap. You have been to see your sister, of course. And the change, the change of attitude! The way all the old clingingness has been thrown aside is amazing.
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