“I have always,” she admitted calmly, “taken a certain amount of interest in Annabel’s future. I swear it. Her formerly brown hair was dyed a white shade of blonde. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. It probably had its own repulsive oubliette in the bottom, where tiny princesses could fall and break their necks. “Lucy, are you feeling all right?” He asked concernedly. “Some day you will be my wife, and it would not be well for either of us to remember that in these unhappy days you and I were separated. Brendon made a quick movement forward.
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