watching her the while with undisguised trepidation.
Everyone saw that something extraordinary was going on. Augusta choked, whooped, gurgled, turned red and spotty, purple and white, alternately. She seemed passing every minute through months of childish growth, long-past croups, convulsions, measles, and so forth, sweeping over her in flashes, as she began once more her painful, and in this case, rapid, journey towards maturity.
The public in the gallery rose en masse. Business was a standstill. The juniors stood on benches. The magistrate, bewildered and confounded at the unexpected turn of events, wiped his spectacles with the air of a man who sees the end of all things.
The women round the children were rigid with fright, and dared not lay a finger on the prodigy. The matron was the first to recover. Her sense of propriety awoke, and rapidly taking off her long cloak, she passed it round the struggling, elderly child, who each instant was outgrowing her garments more and more.
"Oh! speak, Augusta, do speak if you can!" implored Prudence.
