‘No, my poor guardian,’ Gerald mocked. ‘Well?’ demanded Miss Froxfield, accepting a glass of lemonade proffered by a passing lackey. The theme was a masquerade. And if you mean that he may have reconciled himself with his own father, you waste your breath. After all, life had still its pulsations. It did seem in so many ways exactly what Ramage said it was—the sensible thing to do. Somebody tricked you back yonder—baited you for spite. Following this direction, he opened a gate, and struck into one of the most beautiful green lanes imaginable; which, after various windings, conducted him into a more frequented road, and eventually brought him to the place he sought. Mr. I was one of the few. 1.
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