” “No,” she moaned, “not that. "What is this!" cried Sir Rowland. CHAPTER XI. She had never dreamed of such decadence, never imagined that young people could be so happy and healthy. She looked at him mournfully. He was scarcely concealed when he heard the horsemen, who perceived they had overshot their mark, ride back. Her hair and voice and figure are as yours used to be. Who is it?” The man came a little further into the room. Miss Stanley had determined from the outset to have the warmest affection for her youngest niece and to be a second mother in her life—a second and a better one; but she had found much to battle with, and there was much in herself that Ann Veronica failed to understand. He drew her away from this thought. Perhaps it had been pick-pocketed or jostled from her dress in a hunt. The dog was, in a sense, a gift of the gods. Two hours had come and gone during this tantalizing occupation.
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