They might applaud, or object, or interfere, but the drama was her very own. Twenty-one, twenty-two. His bravado waxed and he asked her to what would be her first date in nearly twenty years. Before he could draw in the rein, his steed—startled apparently by some object undistinguishable by the rider,—swerved with such suddenness as to unseat him, and precipitate him on the ground. He feared to antagonize that distinguished person. ‘What do you mean to do with her?’ ‘Just keep her talking, that’s all,’ Gerald said quickly. He went into the study and sat down at his table, but not to write. But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity encompassed her. Besides—there is Sir John. “What of her? Have you quarrelled with her?” The girl shook her head. Now, for the cage, my pretty canary-bird.
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