Sheppard trembled violently; and though she understood his meaning too well, she answered,—"I can't guess. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he had greeted her, entering the little private parlour where, Martha being at prayer in their room, she sat alone, reading over and over the letter Mother Abbess had given her and revolving plans in her head. " "Wear that to-night, then. “He looks as though he did, at any rate. The coolies proceeded at a swinging, mincing trot, which gave to the suspended seat a dancing action similar to that of a suddenly agitated hangingspring of a birdcage. Her dainty shoes were soiled with dust and there was a great tear in her skirt. All the same, I wish I had that fellow by the throat! Just the virile, unregenerate man in me wishes that. He remembered that he had heard stories about the wonderful likeness between these two sisters, one of whom was an artist and a recluse, whilst the other had attached herself to a very gay and a very brilliant little coterie of pleasure-seekers. Perhaps I ought not to; but this isn't a case to fiddle-faddle over. He dashed against the screen door before she could catch him and made the veranda. Was that it? Had she clothed this unhappy young man with glamour? Or was it because he was so alone? She could not get through the husks to the kernel of what really actuated her. “Come, we must go home and have some luncheon. ‘Pray you, mademoiselle, can you not—’ ‘No use trying to enlist Lucilla’s aid,’ snapped Roding.
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