Is all your house on the same scale of magnificence as this, Annabel?” she asked, looking round. " Sir Rowland looked at her for a moment, as if he meditated some terrible reply. “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand. Jack may be capable of much that is wicked, but he would never lift his hand against his friend,—of that I am assured. The subject matter was generally worthless, but the handling was well done. She was aware of people—her aunt, her father, her fellow-students, friends, and neighbors— moving about outside this glowing secret, very much as an actor is aware of the dim audience beyond the barrier of the footlights. He felt that he might soon be separated—perhaps, for ever—from the fond little creature he held in his arms, whom he had always regarded with the warmest fraternal affection, and the thought of how much she would suffer from the separation so sensibly affected him, that he could not help joining in her grief. The fair boy in the audience who had waved was yet another suitor.
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