It will be a little lonely sometimes,” she said, looking around at them, “and I shall miss you all, but it is the fairest for myself —and I think for you. “Annabel! Why, what on earth have you been doing to yourself, child?” she exclaimed. The thought of you, wandering from pillar to post, believing yourself hunted—it tore my old heart to pieces! For I knew you. But I found it no laughing matter, I can assure you. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love. She was only a few yards from the door, but lacked the courage to rise and fly. She seemed to grow more beautiful to him and not the opposite. " "Ha!" exclaimed Trenchard, starting, "is he so highly born?" "This letter will inform you," replied Wild, placing a document in his hand.
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