Then there came briskly along the path towards her, an Englishman. " "In whose favour is it made?" he inquired, sternly. ” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. And now for the fawney— the ring I mean. It would surely be only common politeness to drop her a hint—a fellow countrywoman too. Empty, silly, coarse brutes.
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