" "He's gone to Enfield after Blueskin, who has so long eluded his vigilance," rejoined Austin. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. How would it serve Nicholas to keep the truth from his daughter? A tiny thread of disquiet troubled him. 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. We can see round them and behind them and through them, and most of us use that knowledge, in the silent way we have, for our great ends.
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