. " "Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford coldly. They may love us, but they love us as the slave loves his captor, not as equals. Her impressions of this cardinal ceremony were rich and confused, complicated by a quite transitory passion that awakened no reciprocal fire for a fat curly headed cousin in black velveteen and a lace collar, who assisted as a page. On the same peg and evidently belonging to it was a black velvet Zouave jacket. Ruth made a little gesture, of infinite pity; and this was quickly seized upon by the slant-eyed Chinese girl. Anna leaned back with half closed eyes.
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