Read that letter, Thames—my lord marquis, I mean. "You mistake,—you are mine. Mr Jarvis’s sister, that was. Ah! what's that?" he exclaimed, as some one brushed hastily past him. ’ No Latin? And no guns or daggers, naturally. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. “I thought you were coming right across the Park. ’ Gerald eyed her. This lover of yours—” “He doesn’t know!” cried Ann Veronica.
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