Edgeworth Bess wore a scarlet tabby negligée,—a sort of undress, or sack, then much in vogue,—which suited her to admiration, and upon her head had what was called a fly-cap, with richly-laced lappets. She had never been so happy to vomit. When he beheld Jack he uttered a deep groan. It had evidently seen better days before being relegated to the ministrations of a hackney coachman, one who evidently served the less affluent inhabitants of London. Gosse! Dieu du ciel, but how did he get into the convent? She had perforce to obey his command, for speech was impossible. What does he do these three days?’ She had come daily to the vestry, hoping to meet the lad and hear his report.
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