She loved to walk through the gardens, graced with columns that loomed overhead. ’ She shook her head. But it's an odd case. Only an undermaid I was then. 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 mean, it doesn't matter?" "Poor Hoddy! When you were ill in Canton, out of your head, you babbled words. ” “I hope,” he answered, looking at her in some surprise, “that we shall have many more such to think about. No trouble will ever come to your sister through me.
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