Her personal maidservant, the first she had ever had in her life, was joyful for her. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. One never knew when it would be necessary to resume her disguise. She liked to cook even though normal food was not nourishing to her. It was a beautiful place that she had found, a round cave by a small stream. "It won't do, widow," said he, drawing near her, while she shrank from his approach, "so you may spare your breath. "Winifred Wood will never marry, unless the grave can give up its dead. Lucy heard a stir, but if Dawn Plote were to arise and come into the room, it could only mean two murders tonight.
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