Then a servant girl brought in a telegram. She had begun alone. She leaned back in her chair. She was aware of people—her aunt, her father, her fellow-students, friends, and neighbors— moving about outside this glowing secret, very much as an actor is aware of the dim audience beyond the barrier of the footlights. A maidservant held the front door open. "I give you one minute for reflection. " "Sit down, my dear, sit down," interposed Mrs. Wood could give him no further information respecting Sir Rowland Trenchard than what he had obtained from Kneebone; but begged him to defer the further consideration of the line of conduct he meant to pursue until the morrow, when he hoped to have a plan to lay before him, of which he would approve. “Bless you, sweetheart. As it is, I'm not sorry for the blunder. She was lovely, painted like the porcelain doll he had always wanted her to be.
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