’ *** Everett, General Lord Charvill, master of a barony stretching over a wide estate that encroached on the hundreds of Witham, Thurstable and Dengy, stood before his own fireplace, glaring at his visitors from under bushy white brows from a head held necessarily low above a back painfully bent by rheumatism. Taking the direction pointed out, he rode off. With trembling fingers she opened the post-bag. Still, her face never betrayed this distraction. " "Poor Jack!" exclaimed Thames. Seeing her improved mood, he had offered the Latin reading lesson strategically, knowing it would surprise her that he considered her capable. Ruth's gaze wandered from the printed page. The girl was flushed with excitement, bright-eyed, and braced for a struggle; her aunt had never seen her looking so fine or so pretty. "Because they're in the next room, and the door's shut; that's vy, my jack-adandy!" replied Abraham, unsuspiciously. "But—sapperment!—I wish they hadn't broken my pipe. I had dreamt of the olive grove beyond the courtyard I had once been fascinated 198 with as a boy.
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