\" They talked until midnight most nights. " "Oh, dear!" simpered Edgeworth Bess, endeavouring to hide her confusion by looking steadfastly at her plate. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. You will have lots of time on your hands. When he returned, it was always the same. Sir John, by instinct and training, was an unimaginative person. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. The young ladies in the somewhat mixed society amongst which he moved neither satisfied his taste nor appealed in any way to his affections.
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