"What do you mean?" cried Winifred in alarm. Perhaps I ought to have let you order the dinner, but I think I got through it pretty well. Hogarth, didn't I see you last night at the ridotto with Lady Thornhill and her pretty daughter?" "Me!—no, Sir," stammered Hogarth, colouring. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. ‘Here you, Pottiswick. "A doctor? What he needs is a good jolt of aromatic spirits of ammonia. . I had no idea. Jonathan Wild. . So get up, and let's be off.
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