” The dinner was admirable as a dinner; nothing went wrong, from the golden and excellent clear soup to the delightful iced marrons and cream; and Miss Stanley’s praises died away to an appreciative acquiescence. “Ass!” he went on, still warming. “I do wish you and your father could come to some agreement. Ennison?” “He spoke to me, thinking that I was you,” Anna answered. Also she had tried him as a dragoman and as a gendarme, which seemed the most suitable of all to his severely handsome, immobile profile. I loved her so much. And not a worthy tome in sight. “I had lunch very late to-day, and I did not get home in time for dinner. I want to put myself into your hands. ‘She wormed it out of me, the little fiend. .
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