“It is very good of you to come and see me, my dear sister,” Annabel remarked, throwing herself into a low chair, and clasping her hands over her head. “Neither you nor I, Nigel, are made of such stuff,” she answered. She had to do her thinking at home—under inspection. I believe that her ladyship is going to Carey House, and on to the Marquis of Waterford’s ball,” he added, hastily consulting a diary on the hall table. “You mustn’t talk any more,” he said, “but I want you to listen to me just for a moment. She had seen Mrs.
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