So saying, the Prince resumed his horse, and returned to Ashby, the whole crowd breaking up and dispersing upon his retreat.

‘No, no, my dear,’ replied Mrs Kenwigs, ‘it will only worry my uncle.’

“I’m not a prodigy. I find it very difficult to say what I mean—” she observed at length.

‘Will she call me “Sir”?’ cried Mantalini. ‘Me who dote upon her with the demdest ardour! She, who coils her fascinations round me like a pure angelic rattlesnake! It will be all up with my feelings; she will throw me into a demd state.’