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Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. It'll be your own fault if you don't soon get another and a proper young man into the bargain. A hundred pounds to the man who takes him. ” Annabel laughed gaily. She tried not to pant, not to reveal herself, and she began to shake. "As I said before, I have little reliance upon professions of gratitude. There was a bare chance that he had been mistaken. But all those empty years!… My heart was hot. I’ve got too much work. "Where is it?" "Are you the mother of this child?" inquired the person who had first spoken, addressing Mrs. His features were regular, and finely-formed; his complexion bright and blooming,—a little shaded, however, by travel and exposure to the sun; and, with a praiseworthy contempt for the universal and preposterous fashion then prevailing, of substituting a peruke for the natural covering of the head, he allowed his own dark-brown hair to fall over his shoulders in ringlets as luxuriant as those that distinguished the court gallant in Charles the Second's days—a fashion, which we do not despair of seeing revived in our own days. "Perhaps things would have been different if she had lived.
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