Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. He was accompanied by a young man of about seven-and-twenty, who carried his easel, set it in its place, laid the canvass upon it, opened the paint box, took out the brushes and palette, and, in short, paid him the most assiduous attention. Given time and the right environment, and he would outgrow these defects. Anna rummaged about in her dressingcase, and finally drew out a letter. ” “What else,” Lady Lescelles murmured, “are men for?” Anna laughed. Unless he can arise from the bottom of the Thames, where he and his abhorred father lie buried, you will never behold him again in this world. I had a hunch. ” He took a seat by her side.
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