Certainly, we—that is Jarvis and I— knew nothing of it until after Mary’s death. Rot, no doubt; but we can’t alter it. With such qualifications as she possessed, two chief channels of employment lay open, and neither attracted her, neither seemed really to offer a conclusive escape from that subjection to mankind against which, in the person of her father, she was rebelling. My business is with Lady Trafford. I thought he was in Newgate. 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. “I meant it. “Please stop, cabman,” she ordered.
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