Her lover, Darrell, has embarked upon the Thames, where, if he's not capsized by the squall, (for it's blowing like the devil,) he stands a good chance of getting his throat cut by his pursuers—ha! ha! I tracked 'em to the banks of the river, and should have followed to see it out, if the watermen hadn't refused to take me. Double-crossing wouldn't do any good. ‘As for an heir, I have Alderley cousins enough. I was reduced to 170 a fool, for there were many pretty women from all walks of life in that teeming city. She had never felt so acutely the desire for free initiative, for a life unhampered by others.
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