It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. ‘Is he meeting you here then, my dear?’ ‘He had better,’ said Lucilla. “Annabel!” she exclaimed. . The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. ” They clambered down the hill together. Can I be of any assistance? I can assure you that it would give me very much pleasure. Almost instantly she had recognized the fallacy of such a statement. The completest capitulation would not wipe out that trouble.
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