But here she met with a check. "No, lad," said McClintock, his tone becoming kindly. Anna sat quite still for a moment, and then the colour suddenly returned to her cheeks. It began in the eyes and spread to the lips: warm, embracing, even fatherly. Ann Veronica was apologetic to the bottom of her soul. He urged his conductors to a quicker pace to get out of sight of the distressing spectacle, and even felt relieved when he was shut out from it and the execrations of the mob by the walls of the little prison. Read it, and you'll find that your unfortunate uncle, Sir Rowland, surrenders to you all the estates in Lancashire. “You must arrest me!” she gasped, breathlessly, insisting insanely on a point already carried; “you shall!” The police-station at the end seemed to Ann Veronica like a refuge from unnamable disgraces. Another day of nonsuccess would mean many disagreeable things.
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