He succeeded so well that by the time he asked for her name once more, she fluttered her lashes as coquettishly as ever. Her hair was gathered up behind, in a sort of pad, according to the then prevailing mode; and she wore a muslin cap, and pinners with crow-foot edging. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. ” “Can’t we go down into Italy?” “No,” he said; “it won’t run to that now. She then opened Lucy’s meager closet and plucked out a pair of heeled boots usually reserved for weddings and funerals.
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