She put a stool for him at a little distance from her own, and after he had seen the day’s work he hesitated, and then plunged into a resumption of their discussion about beauty. Perhaps, she may tell me whose picture this is. "I suspect our friend has thought better of it, and won't come," he remarked. The question ceased to be a tea-table talk, and became suddenly tragically real for Ann Veronica. Get it off your soul. Forgetting her occupation in her anger, she left off bathing Darrell's wrist; and, squeezing his arm so tightly that the boy winced with pain, she clapped her right hand upon her hip, and turned, with flashing eyes and an inflamed countenance, towards her crest-fallen spouse.
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