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The young lady in the bureau said she would inquire, and Ann Veronica, while she affected to read the appeal on a hospital collecting-box upon the bureau counter, had a disagreeable sense of being surveyed from behind by a small, whiskered gentleman in a frock-coat, who came out of the inner office and into the hall among a number of equally observant green porters to look at her and her bags. Only she was conscious of an unfamiliar and wonderful emotion. The trader you spoke about: he disliked your father, didn't he? Well, he probably played your father a horrible practical joke. I wonder, Ann Veronica, if, when our time comes, we shall be any wiser?” Ann Veronica watched a water-beetle fussing across the green depths. “How did you find me?” She asked. The dress came to her only too manifestly unwashed from its former wearer; even the under-linen they gave her seemed unclean. "Mr. I'm ashamed to say that I was too much terrified to scream out—but ran and hid myself. But, alas! Ah Cum shrugged philosophically. F.
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