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. “You have the temperament,” he said. E. “It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy. For five minutes he has been trying to think of something to say. And all this time perhaps you have been waiting, expecting to hear from me. Things now began to wear so serious a aspect that a messenger was secretly despatched to the Savoy for troops, and in half an hour a regiment of the guards arrived, who by dint of great exertion succeeded in partially dispersing the tumultuous assemblage. ‘Lover’s tiff indeed. The dress was her mother's, and she was wearing it to save a little extra money.
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