Chapter XVII THE CHANGE IN “ALCIDE” “By-the-bye,” his neighbour asked him languidly, “who is our hostess?” “Usually known, I believe, as Lady Ferringhall,” Ennison answered, “unless I have mixed up my engagement list and come to the wrong house. There was no marriage, and I hated, oh, how I hated the man. ' He muttered it continually. The charm of innocence breathes around her, as fragrance is diffused by the flower, sanctifying her lightest thought and action, and shielding her, like a spell, from the approach of evil. Wood, in indignant surprise. Behind the Avenue was a little hill, and an iron-fenced path went over the crest of this to a stile under an elm-tree, and forked there, with one branch going back into the Avenue again. ’ There was a silence. “Go on!” she commanded. “I’m a big boy, you know. ‘Oh, peste,’ she cried out in distressed tones. The latch came with a weak click. " "Where—where?" cried Thames. She had called the police on them anonymously. "My chickens are hatched, or, at least, nearly so," replied Shotbolt, with increased merriment.
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