”
Chapter XXXII
SIX MONTHS AFTER
Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came
Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her
cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. Her mind turned and
accused itself of having been cold and hard. Somewhere in the world there was a book clerk with a discerning
mind; for he had given her the best he had. Stanley. Something or other—she did not catch what—he was damned if he could stand. "
Mr. "
"Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford coldly. Sheppard, "and, if it please
you to visit your indignation on any one let it be upon me, and not on your
excellent husband, whose only fault is in having bestowed his charity upon so
unworthy an object as myself. "
"There's some one in the garden at this moment," cried Jack; "I saw a face at the
window.
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