Wood in very characteristic attitudes, occupied a prominent place on the walls. That Capes should love her seemed beyond the compass of her imagination. I only wish he was not a Papist and a Jacobite. Rattles were sprung; lanterns lighted, and hoisted at the end of poles; windows thrown open; doors unbarred; and, as if by magic, the street was instantaneously filled with a crowd of persons of both sexes, armed with such weapons as came most readily to hand, and dressed in such garments as could be most easily slipped on. The joy of being loved thrilled her as nothing before had ever done, a curious abstract joy which had nothing in it at that moment of regret or even pity. “I am afraid that you are making a mistake,” she said.
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