‘Hilary is a darling. He installed Anna in a comfortable easy chair, and placed his own between her and the door. Can't I make you understand? Perhaps it sounds cruel to you; but we women often have to be cruel defensively. The above description of —the great Figg, by the prize-fighting swains Sole monarch acknowledged of Mary'bone plains— may sound somewhat tame by the side of the glowing account given of him by his gallant biographer, who asserts that "there was a majesty shone in his countenance, and blazed in his actions, beyond all I ever saw;" but it may, possibly, convey a more accurate notion of his personal appearance. “Another young woman, I suppose,” he said, “who knows better than her Maker about her place in the world.
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