The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination. It was horrible. A little exclamation of surprise escaped Ennison. “You might at least,” she murmured, “have invented a more romantic reason. Love—admiration for your matchless beauty alone sways me. ’ For a moment or two there was dead silence in the parlour. Ennison paused by the little gate. Monsieur Valade heaved a gusty sigh, and Gerald, with heavy diplomacy and a forced heartiness of manner, turned the subject. His fingers cherished the hilt of his sword and his eyes were on his friend and superior, ready at his back to do whatever was needed. See what a horrible rascal you've let loose upon the world!" "I'm sure, mother," rejoined Winifred, "if any one was likely to feel resentment, I was; for no one could be more frightened. She loved Florence, wandering the huge markets which bustled day and night.
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