“Splendid you are looking to-day, Miss Stanley,” he said. “Sir John,” her aunt repeated, with thin emphasis, “is coming to see your sister. ’ ‘What name would you like, then?’ Her shadowed features turned in his direction. The cause of this uproar was soon manifest. ” Anna moved softly to the window, and threw up the sash. His name was Bartolomeo di Alberti. “Annabel,” she said, “you are my sister, or I would bid you take the flowers if you care for them, and leave the room. There you are, the best client’s chair.
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