She had felt the premonitory flutter, had asked herself the important question,--and had answered it.

She had told herself that the thing would do.

Frank was not the exact hero that her fancy had painted,--but he was sufficiently heroic.

Everybody said that he would work his way up to the top of the tree, and become a rich man.

At any rate she had resolved;--and then Lady Linlithgow had come in! Surely he would come on the Sunday.
He did not come on the Sunday, but Lord Fawn did come.