The sight o' your 'andsome phiz allys does me good. A. —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. Thinking of Mantua, she wandered to the courtyard. Her hair got loose, her hat came over one eye, and she had no arm free to replace it. ‘Your mystery lady, I mean. I think not.
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