"'Twas but a tiff. Let her come
back home; 'twill be all well."
But Madge was not for resigning herself a moment to his mercy. She
briefly explained her situation and her wishes. The upshot of all was,
that the young gentleman called Dick turned to his friends and said:
"What say you, gentlemen? Our friends at Brooks's can wait, I think.
Shall we protect this lady while she packs her trunks, find lodgings
for her this very night, and see her installed in them?"
"Ay, and see that this gentle brother does not follow or learn where
she goes," answered one.
"Bravo!" cried the other. "'Twill be like an incident in a comedy,
Dick."
"Rather like a page of Smollett," replied Dick. "With your permission,
madam, we'll accompany you to your lodgings."
They sat around the fireplace, with their backs to her, and talked
with easy gaiety, while she packed her possessions; Ned having first
followed them in, and then fled to appease his mind at an ale-house.
Finally Dick and one of the gentlemen closed her trunks for her, while
the other went for a coach; wherein all three accompanied her to the
house of a wigmaker known to Dick, in High Holborn; where they roused
the inmates, made close terms, and left her installed in a decent room
with her belongings.
As they took their leave, after an almost tearful burst of thanks on
her part, Dick said:
"From some of your expressions, madam, I gather that your resources
are limited--resources of one kind, I mean.
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