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A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. He saluted awkwardly. Her aunt had a once exasperating habit of interrupting her work with demands for small household services, but now Ann Veronica rendered them with a queer readiness of anticipatory propitiation. It was denied him, for as he closed his eyes—though but for an instant—the whole scene of his former visit to the place rose before him. ‘My papa he does not wish me to marry the man I choose, and thus he places me in the convent that the nuns may lock me up and I cannot escape. His eyes were fixed upon the tablecloth. “Feel better.
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