I am something of an old fogey, Anna, I’m afraid, but if you treat me like this you will teach me to forget it. Perhaps that was the reason why she enjoyed preparing suppers at the Becks. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. When the woollen-draper was nearly worn out, the Amazon watched her opportunity, and hitting him on the arm, disabled it. ‘Sapristi,’ he gasped. It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. Another day of nonsuccess would mean many disagreeable things.
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