"But I've just about concluded," he continued, with a pathetic twinkle under his bushy brows, "that I might have a worse reason for going back.

What do you think of the meals in Victoria's country, Miss Bell?
It seems to me sometimes that I'd give the whole British Museum for a piece of Johnny-cake." Elfrida reflected that this was not precisely what she expected to experience, and presently the hollow-cheeked Floridian was again at Lady Halifax's elbow for disposal, while the young lady whose appearance and nationality had given him so much room for hope smilingly drifted away from him.

The Cardiffs were talking to a rosy and smooth-faced round-waistcoated gentleman just returned from Siberia about the unfortunate combination of accidents by which he lost the mail-train twice in three days, and Janet had just shaken hands with a short and cheerful-looking lady astrologist.
"Behind that large person in the heliotrope brocade--she's the wife of the _Daily Mercury_--there's a small sofa," Janet said in an undertone.

"I don't think she'll, occupy it, the-brocade looks so much, better standing--no, there she goes! Let us sit down." As they crossed the room Janet added: "In another minute we should have been shut up in a Russian prison.

Daddy's incarcerated already.
And the man told all he knew about them in the public prints a month ago." They sat down luxuriously together, and made ready, in their palm-shaded corner, to wreak the whole of their irresponsible youth upon Lady Halifax's often venerable and always considerable guests.