47, straightening her hat and waiting for her luggage to appear. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming. " "Poor Jack!" sighed Thames. The other must call a coach as quickly as he can. A radiant smile astonished him. ” “It is,” Annabel answered shortly. “Hey sis!” He cried drunkenly. The second look told me I was wrong. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. During the narration Jack's features lighted up, and an expression, which would have been in vain looked for in repose, was instantly caught and depicted by the skilful artist. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners. " "We waste time with this fellow," interposed Sir Cecil, "and may lose the object of our quest, who, beyond doubt, has taken refuge in this building.
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