Entering the Lodge, the first person he beheld was Austin, who was only just up, and whose toilette appeared scarcely completed. Maybe others that I do not know about. What is it? Good God!” An unhappy little smile parted her lips. “Beautiful these autumn flowers are,” said Ann Veronica, in a wide, uncomfortable pause. “Do you mean to say that you have been here ever since I came?” “I am afraid that I must confess it,” he answered. Then, very awkwardly, he took a stool and placed it at the end of Ann Veronica’s table, and sat down. Then a handkerchief was thrown over the cage, to prevent the bird from singing; it was her favourite canary. One more passer-by; and always would she remember his patience and tenderness and disinterestedness.
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