” “Oh, Drummond’s dinner!” she repeated. If you ride past the church, and mount the hill, you'll come to Neasdon and then you'll not have above half a mile to go. She went on from street to street, and all the glory of London had departed. Cut to pieces —slashed—bloodied. Skirting the noble gardens of Montague House, (now, we need scarcely say, the British Museum,) the party speedily reached Great Russell Street,—a quarter described by Strype, in his edition of old Stow's famous Survey, "as being graced with the best buildings in all Bloomsbury, and the best inhabited by the nobility and gentry, especially the north side, as having gardens behind the houses, and the prospect of the pleasant fields up to Hampstead and Highgate; insomuch that this place, by physicians, is esteemed the most healthful of any in London. Clearly dazed, he stared, whispering an oath.
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