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. " "You'd better hold your peace, my lad," observed Jonathan, in a menacing tone. After all, she only LOOKED a woman. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” It was as much an accusation as a question. A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. She had not seen Ramage for ten or eleven days, and she was quite ready for a gossip with him. Beyond was a field sloping steeply upwards, and at the top a small pine plantation. To Ruth the thought of Hartford no longer projected upon her vision a city of spires and houses and tree-lined streets.
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