Something with iron resolve the father had kept hidden all these years in the lonely citadel of his heart. She was alone, and the mask of her unchanging high spirits was for the moment laid aside. “You are positively eloquent to-night—both of you,” she declared. Her shoulders were gripped hard and a familiar voice spoke. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. . I'll do anything in reason for you, old top; but no pig in a poke. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. ’ Mrs Sindlesham laughed lightly, but her eyes quizzed him.
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