He was asleep. Montague Hill?” Annabel put her hand suddenly to her throat and steadied herself with the back of a chair. I’m not mad that he has eyes for you instead of me, not mad at all. It was a charming sight to watch the motions of her tiny fingers as she pursued her task; and though the posture she adopted was not the most favourable that might have been chosen for the display of her sylphlike figure, there was something in her attitude, and the glow of her countenance, lighted up by the mellow radiance of the setting sun falling upon her through the panes of the little dormer-window, that seemed to the youth inexpressibly beautiful. ‘Just what I was going to tell you, miss. But he died when he was a child—long ago—long ago—long ago.
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