I thank God for His sunlight on your face. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. Lady Angela shrugged her shoulders. The future was not so black. He asked her whether she understood what she was saying, and went on to say still more precisely that she should never touch a penny of his money until she came home again—not one penny. There are some papers I have to look through to-night—important papers. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. That would be an unkind twist of fate.
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