You go home and wait a century, Vee, and then try again. I'll call for you after lunch. " So saying, he re-entered the house, closed the door, and, followed by the widow, proceeded to the fire-place, where a handful of chips, apparently just lighted, crackled within the rusty grate. Her father—man of rock—had never needed her, whereas Hoddy, even if he did not love her, would always be needing her. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. For a few minutes he kept them at bay. She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard.
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