She had been so young then. The boat in which he rode was not overset. Somebody tricked you back yonder—baited you for spite. Her aunt went out of the room with dignity and a rustle, and up-stairs to the fastness of her own room. She returned home to the Beck house soaked and soggy. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. Old London Bridge. Oh! I'm in such a fluster!" Upon which, she snatched up her fan, cast a look into the glass, smoothed down her scarf, threw a soft expression into her features, and led the way into the next room, whither she was followed by her daughter and Thames Darrell.
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