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20 by the paramount necessity of getting one of her fourteen children into the Blue-coat School,—"the exertion did her good;" and she was soon sufficiently amused to regret when the darkness shut out all view save the post-boy. Adventures never happen now-a-days; there are neither knights nor highwaymen; no lonely heaths, with gibbets for finger-posts; no hope of even a dangerous rut, or a steep hill; romance and roads are alike macadamised; no young ladies are either run away with, or run over;—and Emily arrived in inglorious safety among the argand lamps and rosewood tables in Mr. Delawarr's drawing-room—was properly welcomed—introduced—took a hasty dinner, for her host was hurrying to the House, and her hostess to the Opera—was supposed to be very much fatigued—installed into a very pretty little boudoir—and found herself in a seat by the fire, tired enough for an arm-chair, but much too excited for her pillow; and she leaned back in that most soothing state of indolence, fireside's fantasies—while her uncle's wig, Lady Alicia's black velvet hat, Mr. Delawarr's kindness, &c. &c. floated down the "river of her thoughts." But the three hours before, of, and after midnight in a fashionable square, are not