Jack, who had been lingering near the group, now walked on. Annabel passed on with a strained nod to her sister, and Sir John’s bow was a miracle of icy displeasure. "Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. Mr. He made her tell him the core of the difficulty. It was a charming sight to watch the motions of her tiny fingers as she pursued her task; and though the posture she adopted was not the most favourable that might have been chosen for the display of her sylphlike figure, there was something in her attitude, and the glow of her countenance, lighted up by the mellow radiance of the setting sun falling upon her through the panes of the little dormer-window, that seemed to the youth inexpressibly beautiful.
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