‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. ’ ‘I’ve a good mind to leave the pair of you to it and take myself off,’ threatened his junior, marching across the room and snatching up a decanter. ’ She flounced back to stare out of the window again. She worried for her father in Mantua, 28 hoping that he was still alive. “I think,” he said, “that some one ought to warn her. A man's laced hat,—whether adopted from the caprice of the moment, or habitually worn, we are unable to state,—cocked knowingly on her head, harmonized with her masculine appearance. An acute sense of living was in her veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. You know as well as I do that it was accident. Have the goodness to affix your name to that memorandum, Sir Rowland. Somebody to whom she would be necessary, who for days would have to depend upon her for the needs of life. Anna, in her strange striking way, was radiantly beautiful.
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