She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. Outside the door stood one of the soldiers. ‘Do not think—’ he panted, ‘that I am finished—with you, mademoiselle. ‘Else she would not have married that ne’er-do-well only because Jarvis proposed him to her. And, stretching out his hand, he lifted the dark object from the flood. Having no more patience, I drew you aside to give you a compliment on your radiant beauty. “Thank God,” he exclaimed. But I will go. Miss Stanley had determined from the outset to have the warmest affection for her youngest niece and to be a second mother in her life—a second and a better one; but she had found much to battle with, and there was much in herself that Ann Veronica failed to understand. We've got to make him take up the harp of life and go twanging it again.
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