The old-fashioned dress, with its series of ruffles and printed flowers, ballooned treacherously, revealing her well-turned leg in silk stockings, as it snapped against her body as a mould. Besides, she will do no such thing. Lord Charvill’s sense of justice would not, however, allow him to repudiate his granddaughter, if indeed this female proved to be the infant lost to the family so many years ago. The door is open, so it is needless to ask leave to enter. It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. The general did what he might to hush it up, and paid handsomely to manage it, I daresay. "Where is it?" "Are you the mother of this child?" inquired the person who had first spoken, addressing Mrs. “Do you like my dress?” “Yes, the dress is beautiful, but you are much more beautiful than any dress. They're gone into the next room. m.
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