“I am sorry,” he said slowly. ’ ‘Then what?’ demanded Lucilla in a hushed tone. ‘For your messenger was obliged instead to come and find Hilary, and it has given me the opportunity to meet you. Jackson, gallantly. Besides, you cannot tell where it will end. ‘Dreadfully untidy, is it not? Can’t abide bare rooms. Upon a table, where they had been hastily deposited, on the intelligence of Darrell's accident, lay a pair of pink kid gloves, bordered with lace, and an enormous fan; the latter, when opened, represented the metamorphosis and death of Actæon. "I had one," answered his sister, in a mournful voice; "and, perhaps, I have one still. A dull light shone through the open window blinds and softened the room with parchment yellowness.
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