“I suppose you’re like the rest of them. Look at it, I say. "Well, like or not, I'm greatly pleased with it, and must beg it from you as a memorial——" "Of what?" she interrupted, startled by his change of manner. Her complexion had resisted the snow-glare wonderfully; her skin had only deepened its natural warmth a little under the Alpine sun. I might have known it. Good riddance. Oh! I'm in such a fluster!" Upon which, she snatched up her fan, cast a look into the glass, smoothed down her scarf, threw a soft expression into her features, and led the way into the next room, whither she was followed by her daughter and Thames Darrell. “A thick-set, coarse-looking young man, Anna!” she exclaimed in a hoarse excited whisper.
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