She pushed between the pews, hoping to reach the sword first, while desperately holding on to her petticoats to keep them up, as her sword arm wavered. Anna stared back at every one with undaunted composure. Neither of these wards had beds, and the unfortunate inmates were obliged to take their rest on the oaken floor. Stanley professed a great solicitude to warm his hands. She forgot Anna’s sacrifices, forgot her own callousness, forgot the burden which she had fastened upon her sister’s shoulders. “It’s settled. Drummond,” he continued, looking across at his vis-à-vis, “we look to you to give expression to our sentiments.
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