“Too late, my dear girl,” she exclaimed. I. They were on their way back home, or so she had thought. " The walls were covered with racks of loaded rifles. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. “Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame. Having only seen him in the gloom of a dungeon, and loaded with fetters, Kneebone had not noticed this alteration: but he was now greatly struck by it. “All’s well that ends well,” he said; “and the less one says about things the better. “But you yourself,” she exclaimed, glancing into his face, “you too look tired. “Both!” said Ann Veronica. These sweeping dignities were not within the compass of her will; she remembered she liked Ramage, and owed things to him, and she was interested—she was profoundly interested.
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