The little matter of an accent may be misleading, I grant you, but —’ He was interrupted, and with impatience. As she averted her gaze, a terrible idea crossed her. And it is not at all his affair. She sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed, the roses cradled in her arms. Advancing to the middle of the chamber, he halted, drew himself up, and fixed his dark, expressive eyes, on Thames Darrell. They had much to talk about, or rather Miss Prudence had. So she brought upon the stage the Reverend Henry Dolby, a preacher of means, worldly-wise and kindly, cheery and rotund, who, with his wife and daughter, had arrived at the Victoria that morning.
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