” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply. Slowly, he drew back his head and looked into her face. When is the game?\" She did her best to overhaul her own appearance for 63 the greater part of an hour, blotting lips, fluffing the brush over her face. He had brought her here to this place—where her freedom was curtailed even more than at the convent so that a cavalier was very much needed—and only on Monday came again. ’ He glanced at the portrait behind her. Why did the beggar hang on down there, when he could have enjoyed all that civilization had to offer? Yes, he would be mighty glad to see McClintock; and the sooner he came the better. Sheppard heaved a deep sigh, and opened her eyes, which now looked larger, blacker, and more melancholy than ever. He had spoken impressively, and most likely Anna, had she reappeared, would have met with a fair reception. Once again the cavalcade was in motion, and winding its way by St. ’ ‘Bravo,’ applauded Lucilla, clapping her hands. Once before—but that had been different. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast.
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