” It was her last evening in that wrappered life against which she had rebelled. She even thought that perhaps she might come to love him, in spite of that faint indefinable flavor of absurdity that pervaded his courtly bearing. Miss Stanley hesitated, and took first one and then another of the constituents of this costume off its peg and surveyed it. I did not reckon upon—him. I suppose it is the mirrors and decorations. ” She instructed him. ‘And I’ll say it as often as I choose, you confounded impertinent wench! Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m your grandfather, girl. You poor man, what have you been doing to yourself?” “Nothing except travelling all night,” he answered.
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