“I’m sorry, ma’am, to seem the cause of any disturbance, but this,” he pointed to Anna, “is my wife. ” Lucy said with concern. Her father’s step quickened to a trot. The lad looked alarmed. CHAPTER III. “The dawn!” said Miss Miniver, with her glasses reflecting the fire like pools of blood-red flame. He renewed his supplications to Sharples, but with no better success than heretofore; and the greater part of the night was passed by him and the poor widow, whose anxiety, if possible, exceeded his own, in the most miserable state imaginable. Love and lavender, he thought, perhaps wistfully.
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