’ ‘I was called in, ma’am, to catch a French spy—at least, that is what Pottiswick thought. ” “You do not flatter me,” she laughed. “Your brother has gone?” she asked Sydney, between the courses. And yet, on the very site of the sordid tenements and squalid courts we have mentioned, where the felon openly made his dwelling, and the fraudulent debtor laughed the object of his knavery to scorn—on this spot, not two centuries ago, stood the princely residence of Charles Brandon, the chivalrous Duke of Suffolk, whose stout heart was a well of honour, and whose memory breathes of loyalty and valour. ‘And if you like, I will tell you why. “Well, I don’t feel like standing it. She did her best to do this.
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