Won't you let me take you back to the house ?" A commanding and querulous contralto voice was heard behind them, and a dim, majestic figure appeared under the Japanese lantern.
"Helen ?" The girl turned quickly.

"Yes, mamma." "May I ask you to return to the club-house for supper with me?
Your father has been very much worried about you.

We have all been looking for you." "Mamma, this is Mr.Harkless." "How do you do ?" The lady murmured this much so far under her breath that the words might have been mistaken for anything else--most plausibly, perhaps, for, "Who cares if it is ?"--nor further did she acknowledge John's profound inclination.

Frigidity and complaint of ill-usage made a glamour in every fold of her expensive garments; she was large and troubled and severe.

A second figure emerged from behind her and bowed with the suave dignity that belonged to Brainard Macauley.
"Mr.Macauley has asked to sit at our table," Mrs.Sherwood said to Helen.