Her hair was held back in a filigreed barrette. The knowledge breathed into her heart a satisfying warmth. “Dear friend,” she said, “do not magnify me into a physiological problem. So kind, so good to me always. Run along now; but return in half an hour. 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. You’re the only person I’ve really given good, straight, unselfish thought to. "What do you think of your nephew, Sir Rowland?" whispered Jonathan, who sat with his back towards Thames, so that his features were concealed from the youth's view. Montague Hill was taken for the millionaire once or twice, and I suppose it flattered his vanity.
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