It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. He refrained from pointing out that the case would be exactly the same if she was not a lady. ‘I take it that you like this great-niece of mine?’ ‘One cannot help but do so. When I gave him an invitation to supper, I little thought he'd accept it. She sat down awkwardly and helplessly on one of the little stools by her table and covered her face with her hands. Her cheeks seemed to burn, her veins ran riot, and her heart was beating so fast that she was sure he must feel it through his scarlet coat. Meanwhile, the excitement of the chase had in some degree subsided.
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