"It is like a romaunt of the earlier and purer days of chivalry," goes on Lady Lilias, in her most prosy tone. "Alas! where are they now?" She pauses for an answer to this difficult question, being in her very loftiest strain of high art depression.,
He smiles, and, turning, kneels before her in mock humility that savors of very real homage. Taking her hand, he presses it to his lips.,
"It is to be regretted you cannot like England, as you have made up your mind to live in it; and yet I think——" She pauses..
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