She wore her expensive clothes quite beautifully, and gave lovely little lunches and dinners; no really merry house-party was complete without her.
Sarah was her only child, and, although at the time of which I am writing she was not yet nine years of age, there was no one in London better suited to the adventurous and perilous existence that Fate had selected for her.

Sarah was black as ink--that is, she had coal black hair, coal black eyes, and wonderful black eyelashes.

Her eyelashes were her only beautiful feature, but she was, nevertheless, a most remarkable looking child.

"If ever a child's possessed of the devil, my dear Charlotte," said Captain James Trent to her mother, "it's your precious daughter--she _is_ the devil, I believe." "Well, she needs to be," said her mother, "considering the life that's in store for her.

We're very good friends, she and I, thank you." They were.