“Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. " "My mind's made up," rejoined Jack, coldly,—"we part to-night. Books; an inexplicable hunger to be satisfied. . You are not a tourist seeking adventure. ’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. It seemed to make her sister downcast beyond any precedent. He turned the wheel carefully as he touched her neck with the other, threading her soft curls in between his slim fingers. Her eyes were perhaps a little brighter than usual, the firelight played about her hair, there seemed to him to be a sudden softening of the straight firm mouth. She is English, and apparently in some distress. S.
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