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Section 3. “I did not,” Anna answered. " "And I'm glad your worship's recognition doesn't come too late," observed the Master. Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered. It loves to sit on your knee. Her hair was gathered up behind, in a sort of pad, according to the then prevailing mode; and she wore a muslin cap, and pinners with crow-foot edging. With some difficulty he contrived to raise her to the window, and with still greater difficulty to squeeze her through it—her bulk being much greater than his own. He was brooding over her, she could sense it, and the shadowy circles around his lovely dark eyes bespoke a terrible ongoing insomnia. I hope she falls off the face of the planet. When will he be up?" "That depends. I've watched this lad—this Sheppard—from infancy; and, though I have apparently concerned myself little about him, I have never lost sight of my purpose.
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