And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. But she did not in the least want to do that. Marriage!—and no woman by to tell the child what it was! The shocks and disillusions she would have to meet unsuspectingly—and bitterly. I won’t even ask. Kneebone, he took his departure. Every eye seemed focussed upon her; and yet she had known the sensation to be the conceit of her imagination. Annabel watched her with wide-open, terrified eyes. “One has to live and learn,” she remarked, with a passable imitation of her father’s manner. ” Lucy shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. His lips were tight drawn. But they did what they could for her. ‘Very well, mademoiselle, so be it,’ he snapped. Of this boy she had only caught a glimpse;—but that glimpse was sufficient to satisfy her it was her son,—and, if she could have questioned her own instinctive love, she could not question her antipathy, when she beheld, partly concealed by a pillar immediately in the rear of the woollen-draper, the dark figure and truculent features of Jonathan Wild. Was there no echo anywhere in Miss Stanley’s pacified brain? Those empty rooms, if they were empty, were the equivalents of astoundingly decorated predecessors.
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