A paralyzing horror was upon her. “Is Miss Stanley coming up with us?” “I go second,” she said, “and change at Wimbledon. Wait!" He released himself from his aunt's embrace, ran to the trunk and fetched the old coat. Unless—would he hide from them as he had hidden from her? It was a big house, he said. "Yes, my angel, to her—rest her soul! She extorted it from me, and bound me by a solemn oath to fulfil it. It may be treacherous, it may lay up a store of future woe; but it insures present happiness, and that is sufficient.
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