She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. "What's that you're taking to Sir Rowland Trenchard's?" "Only a box, Sir," answered Sheppard, emptying the glass. ’ He sighed, spread his hands quite in her own manner, and fluttered his lashes. He must have been following her from room to room, silent in his stockinged feet. "By the avenger of his family's dishonour—by your brother," he replied, coolly. She had no intention whatsoever of spending her life in a convent, but that was not his affair. There was hope for me then. He sent me flowers.
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