There, in a little tea and sweetstuff shop, she bought and consumed slowly and absent-mindedly the insufficient nourishment that is natural to her sex on such occasions. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. It contains news of the serious illness of a near relation at Paris. ‘You are related to General Lord Charvill?’ ‘Monsieur le baron, he is my grandpére,’ she confirmed. Then a servant girl brought in a telegram. ” “How could you!” She exclaimed. ” He chuckled, wincing at the thought. In this letter, which is addressed to my ill-fated mother, he speaks of his friendship for Sir Rowland, whom it seems he had known abroad; but entreats her to keep the marriage secret for a time, for reasons which are not fully developed.
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