"Ay, ay," rejoined Sheppard; "he may do what he pleases,—hang me, if he thinks proper,—if you wish it. Only au revoir. ‘What has that to say to anything?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ smiled Lucy nervously. ” “I hope that you may,” Anna answered enigmatically. ” Chapter XXXII SIX MONTHS AFTER Up the moss-grown path, where the rose bushes run wild, almost met, came Anna in a spotless white gown, with the flush of her early morning walk in her cheeks, and something of the brightness of it in her eyes. She cursed herself for a fool. "You're not hurt I hope, Sir Rowland?" inquired this individual. . "'Sdeath! do you trifle with me, sirrah?" cried Rowland fiercely.
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