Ann Veronica looked bright and a little elated, and she disregarded her father’s invitation to be seated. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. She too had seen. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. “Just come to that seat now you are here, Miss Stanley, and look down the other path; there’s a vista of just the common sort. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. But—he was cleverer than any of you. I just want him, and no one else will do.
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