” Lady Ferringhall sat with half closed eyes and clenched teeth. "It is not too late to repair the wrong I have done my nephew," cried Trenchard. Thames Street was wholly impassable. Both Spurlock and McClintock stood by their chairs until she was gone. ‘You cannot mean General Charvill?’ ‘That old martinet?’ exclaimed Roding. She did not think for one moment what interpretation he might put upon the word “lover. He was walking listlessly along, well-dressed, debonnair, good-looking. Thames took it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently—judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud and patrician features certainly presented a very striking resemblance to his own. He had shaved his side-whiskers and come over in flannels, but he was still indisputably the same person who had attended Ann Veronica for the measles and when she swallowed the fish-bone. “I wonder what he takes me for?” When presently she got down from the stile a certain note of internal conflict, a touch of doubt, had gone from her warm-tinted face. And as he walked by her side they began a wrangle that was none the less pleasant to Ann Veronica because it served to banish a disagreeable preoccupation. Darrell, however, rose again instantly; and though mortally wounded, made a desperate effort to regain the boat. Beautiful is the girl of twelve,—who is neither child nor woman, but something between both, something more exquisite than either! Such was the fairy creature presented to Thames Darrell, under the following circumstances. She was beauty, the key of magic, the teacher of spells, the predictor of wars, and the gate of the future.
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