And now—Dear! Dear! The dayspring from on high hath visited me. He talked very little and rather absently. His favorite newspaper was the Times, which he began at breakfast in the morning often with manifest irritation, and carried off to finish in the train, leaving no other paper at home. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. She was to see Capes to-morrow, but now, in this state of misery she had achieved, she felt assured he would turn his back upon her, take no notice of her at all. “In two days,” she reflected, “Mrs. Going involved two things that all Ann Veronica’s tact had been ineffectual to conceal from her aunt and father. D. ‘Where is there that I can go?’ All at once Alderley felt acutely suspicious. The unknown, previously so attractive, now presented another face—blank. “Is this true, Annabel? Is he dead?” She nodded.
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