The books slid from her arms and fluttered to the floor. Despair engulfed her at the horrid remembrance that the one particular Englishman she knew to be sympathique did not at all wish to marry her. “We’re in for it. Her new husband was pleased to watch the astonished look on her face as tray after tray appeared on the grand table, each better than the next. These things did not harmonize with his conception of the forthcoming (if unavoidable) interview. But he held the smile until she turned away from the curtain. He had not proceeded far when he was alarmed by the tramp of a horse, which seemed to be rapidly approaching, and he had scarcely time to leap the hedge and conceal himself behind a tree, when a tall man, enveloped in an ample cloak, with his hat pulled over his brows, rode by at full speed. "Leave the room instantly, sirrah!" rejoined the lady, bouncing up, and giving him a slap on the cheek that made his eyes flash fire. Sir John filled his glass with trembling hand. She sought hastily in her mind for a plausible answer to an obvious question that didn’t come. Ennison slightly——” There was a dead silence in the little room. Besides, it is all reversed now, you know.
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