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’ ‘Fiddle,’ scoffed Miss Froxfield. That world of fine printed cambrics and escorted maidens, of delicate secondary meanings and refined allusiveness, presented itself to her imagination with the brightness of a lost paradise, as indeed for many women it is a lost paradise. Now do you see his motive?" "I see nothing but your danger," replied his mother, tenderly. Why? What is she to you?” “I was there by accident,” Ennison answered. Nothing shall induce me to act contrary to the dictates of my conscience. “And think, think”—her voice sank —“of the horrible coarseness!” “What coarseness?” said Ann Veronica.
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