The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. And this great mellow place, this London, now was hers, to struggle with, to go where she pleased in, to overcome and live in. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. —Sorry to quit your lord—worships, I mean,—I don't know what I mean," she added, a little confused, and dropping a profound curtsey to the disguised noblemen, each of whom replied by a bow, worthy, in her opinion, of a prince of the blood at the least,—"but I've a few necessary orders to give below.
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