’ Gerald drew his breath in sharply as Lord Charvill took a step towards his granddaughter, thrusting out his head. She clasped her hands over her mouth in a silent scream. . "O, lud!" she cried; "French noblemen in disguise! and so rude as I was! I shall never recover it!" "A good supper will set all to rights," insinuated Kneebone. What had shifted his casual interest was the visible prospect of a party of three who were coming down the packet gangplank. On a sudden, a change came over her countenance, which, up to this moment, had worn a smiling and satisfied expression. It was Ennison who for the rest of his visit was quiet and subdued. .
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