"Who is it?" "He didn't give his name, Sir," replied the maid; "but he's a young gentleman. Maybe the girl was telling the truth, and then again, maybe she wasn't. I bent over him. Perhaps because I don’t know. She held up the lamp. " In less time than Hobson had mentioned, the carriage was announced. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. "I am not, by Heaven!" replied Sheppard, firmly.
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