I wonder whether you would mind, Lady Ferringhall,” he went on, with a sudden glance at her, “if I tell you that you yourself remind me a great deal more of what she was like then, except of course that your complexion and colouring are altogether different. " "Be silent dog," cried Jonathan. The open books she knew by heart; aye, they had been ground into her, morning and night. Was this the result of some strange experiment? It was the person of Annabel Pellissier—the soul of a very different order of being. “Everybody seems to have it now. Little woman, you have been brave enough before. " CHAPTER XIII.
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