She was aware of people—her aunt, her father, her fellow-students, friends, and neighbors— moving about outside this glowing secret, very much as an actor is aware of the dim audience beyond the barrier of the footlights. Wood had the advantage of her husband in point of years, being on the sunny side of forty,—a period pronounced by competent judges to be the most fascinating, and, at the same time, most critical epoch of woman's existence,—whereas, he was on the shady side of fifty,—a term of life not generally conceived to have any special recommendation in female eyes. “Sit down,” he said, and perused—“perused” is the word for it—for some moments. But this was important. ‘You cannot be always with me. “Where have you been? All these hours I have been calling for you. It is only a matter of time before he presents himself to whoever has the deeds to Remenham House—a lawyer I presume—and claims that property for his wife’s. He had been quite right to sit down. ” His voice conveyed studied moderation. As she started, rearing up her head, a hand stole about her mouth and closed down hard.
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