” “Then you had better ring the bell,” she declared, laughing. "I am, Charcoal. It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. And, now, to find a messenger. "What a wonderful colour!" she exclaimed. The agonized mother could scarcely repress a scream at the spectacle that met her gaze. His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. She put down the sketch-books and apparatus she had brought with her, pulled out her stool, and sat down. 207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. But once he had steered the lady down the hall and along a passage to a window seat at the end, he abandoned the subject of society. She laughed a little contemptuously. Aha!" he continued, producing a short silver staff, which he carried constantly about with him, and uttering a terrible imprecation, "I see you're confounded. Before you have lived—” He became darkly prophetic.
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