There's a friend of Sir James—a young man, an engraver of masquerade tickets and caricatures,—his name I believe is Hogarth. Her sleepless night had left her languid but not stupefied, and for an hour or so the work distracted her altogether from her troubles. "Got the rooms mixed. He drew compellingly upon his new characters to keep him out of this melancholy channel; but they ebbed and ebbed; he could not hold them. Here, take this youngster, Terry; my legs are lighter than old Nab's. . Jonathan, however, paid no sort of attention to this demonstration of hatred.
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