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. Sir Rowland, who had continued absorbed in thought, with his eyes fixed upon the sloop, as she made her way slowly down the river, disembarked more leisurely. “I don’t think she will,” she said. Not to go to her is wickeder than if I had run away with my friend's wife. “Dear me, what a relief! If I had had any nerves that man would have trampled upon them long ago. And me, I know very much of soldiers. The gentleman appealed to shook his head in reply, coughed as only a Dutchman can cough, and raising his hand from the bowl of his pipe, went through precisely the same mysterious ceremonial as the Master. It was painful to want him so much.
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