"Hush!" she said, putting her lean fingers to her lips. "Well, I will see him," replied the knight, after a moment's pause; "he may be from the Earl of Mar. We meant to make it dinner and a theatre, but you were not home. I'll remember that. It was still too dark for reading, but she could see well enough to note the number of the last page—fifty-six. ” “I am frightened of Sir John,” he said, “but I suggest that we risk it. Like a petulant child he snapped. “But I—I went to Nigel Ennison for help. You don't know what you have got; I do. ’ She seemed to recollect herself suddenly. I’m going to tell you things plainly.
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