The world, perhaps, will be educated out of its idea of fixed standards. At the corner of Liquorpond Street stood the old Hampstead coach-office; and, on the night in question, a knot of hostlers, waggoners, drivers, and stable-boys was collected in the yard. Robbed of their prey, the fury of the mob became ungovernable. Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. “I said that at the Zoo, and I mean it.
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