" At this juncture, two women, very smartly attired in silk hoods and cloaks, appeared at the door of the Lodge. ’ ‘Poor sort of a mother,’ Martha said with bitterness. She was chaffing him about being taken for Meysey Hill, and suggested that he should be presented to me as the millionaire. “Me and my bright ideas. Jackson, mean time, produced a pocket-book; and, after deliberately sharpening the point of a pencil, began to write on a blank leaf. A thing which had mystified her since childhood, a smouldering wonder why it should be, and until now she had never felt the urge to investigate. What do you think, Annabel?” “I don’t think they would,” she admitted. To a woman she might have confided; but to this man, kindly as he was, it was unthinkable. He had a handsome, jolly-looking face; stood six feet two in his stockings; and measured more than a cloth-yard shaft across the shoulders—athletic proportions derived from his father the dragoon. It was a simple wish. ” “I met you accidentally,” he reminded her.
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