His Grace — page 204: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

TUF HIS GRACE. when a condemned man has started for the scaffold, it is a matter of small consequence whether he exhibits an edifying dejection or disappoints.spectators by look- ing as if he didn’t care. As for me, I perceived that my functions must soon come to an end. My daily routine work had ceased to possess any interest for me, now that the saving of a few pounds here and there could not affect the ultimate result one way or the other. I daresay that was why I hurried through it on that particular morning and, for no reason except that I did not know what else to do with myself, strolled off to Hyde Park. I have always abhorred London, and it has always been incomprehensible to me that people who might be breathing fresh country air should deliberately choose to spend the best part of the summer in that thickly- populated desert of bricks and pavement; but I don’t wonder that the poor, deluded creatures should be thankful for such an apology for green leaves and such an imitation of what flower-beds ought to look like as the Park can afford them, and to my mind they look rather better and happier there than they do by candle- light. That is, the men and a few of the women look better ; the majority of the latter have, of course, seen fit in these days to adopt a species of complexion which is ill-fitted to cope with the warm glow of a sunny June morning. Iwas wandering along, taking half-conscious notes of the passers-by as I went, and inwardly wonder- ing who could have been the first extraordinary indi- vidual to suggest that mauve is a becoming color to lay thickly upon human cheeks and chins, when I caught sight of Hurstbourne riding with Miss St. George. There was a groom behind them—Lady Deverell’s Eomichoo “S (E(@) m