“Absolutely platonically,” she said. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback. As time wore on, and they did not return, Mr. " "Then you will stay!" she cried, clapping her hands joyfully, "for I'm sure he won't part with you. But you, Ferringhall, our pattern, an erstwhile Sheriff of London, a county magistrate, a prospective politician, a sober and an upright man, one who, had he aspired to it, might even have filled the glorious position of Lord Mayor— James, a whisky and Apollinaris at once.
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