Sydney was strumming over a new song which stood upon the piano. As he passed the Six Bells, he noticed the steeds of the two horsemen at the door; and glancing into the house, perceived the younger of the two in the passage. That same adventurousness that had already buoyed her through crises that would have overwhelmed any normally feminine girl with shame and horror now became uppermost again. He was asleep when Jonathan entered, and growled at being disturbed. Wait, though. The chair was torture. Mac would have some new yarns to spin and a fresh turn-over to his celebrated liver. "Then I'll have it before to-morrow morning," said the keeper of the New Prison, to himself. " "I'll tell you what. It was true. ‘I am not a fool. “A new admirer, Annabel? But what has that to do with your going to England?” “Everything! He is Sir John Ferringhall—very stupid, very respectable, very egotistical.
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