“How old are you?\" He looked at her engagingly. She had to wear cream and a brown sash and a short frock and her hair down, and Gwen cream and a brown sash and a long skirt and her hair up. Of what was she thinking? She must rescue herself. ” He snarled. “You’ve interested me enormously. She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love. ” “Heavens!” the lady exclaimed. Resolution, severity, subtlety, were required for it; and these were qualities which Jonathan possessed in an extraordinary degree. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. All this was exciting and entertaining. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life.
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