“Lord! if ever I see the look of one bent on a desperate course, I see it this minute!” thought the milliner, turning the glance on Lady Selina’s companion. And there it was for you. That black-avised gentleman, with the bushy black eyebrows, and the small, restless black eyes beneath, with the blue chin and full, insolent mouth--that was never young Simpson! “Some elderly rip, out of the poor lad’s regiment!” diagnosed Pamela rapidly, seeing the gold-lace glint. “And that is why my young Madam is so monstrous military herself. If ever I see an elopement----!” And indeed, the two had a flushed and conscious air; defiant, suspicious. “However you may try to brazen it out, your heart’s as heavy as lead, you poor silly thing,” was the next conclusion of the watcher. “As for you, you wicked wretch, you are all ardours and whispers, all swollen with triumph, yet you aren’t a bit sure of her. There, now, I knew it--she won’t let you lead her in, with your arm about her waist; not even let you take her hand. She’s no notion to have you blazon her your conquest, for all the Inn company to see. Mercy on us, there’s a toss of the head! Aye, and here’s a look for you, my fine gentleman! No--I wouldn’t make too sure of her yet, if I were you!” The sound of hoofs and wheels, and of the clanging bell had brought landlord and landlady to the doorway. Pamela emerged slowly from her leafy retreat. She had a mind to keep the Mad Brat under observation as long as she could. ’Twas a mere child! Pamela knew that she could scarce have reached her twentieth year; and Pamela had once herself been mighty near flinging away everything a woman should hold dear, for a man’s smile. She had been saved, on the very edge of the precipice, by a sort of miracle. And she often had shuddered, contemplating the horrible depth of the chasm into which she had all but fallen. Did she not now read on the young wife’s face something of the frantic recklessness that had once moved her? Besides which she had a pride in her sex which made it personally grievous to her when a woman went wrong. And lastly, she flattered herself she was a judge of character, and yonder military buck was a bad, dissipated, selfish wretch, with no use for a woman but to break her heart. As she entered the hall, discreetly, in the wake of the new-comers, she found Lady Selina in high wrangle with her swain. “And I say, I will have a post-chaise, Colonel Endacott! And I protest you’re making a vast mistake! Pray, Mr. Landlord, a bowl of broth and a glass of wine in a private parlour--and a post-chaise, with a decent pair of horses, in an hour. The gentleman will go to the coffee-room. Yes, sir--you will go to the coffee-room. Do I hear you curse, sir? La! here is a charming thing, indeed!” Suddenly her eye became fixed, she uttered an exclamation in a high tone of surprise and excitement. “Sir Jasper Standish--as I am a living woman!”