” “Any place would be beautiful,” said Ann Veronica, in a low voice. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. Her hair once more was arranged with its old simplicity. I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. Jack instandly extinguished the light, and called to his comrade to come after him. “Rhea will return soon. .
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