” Sydney looked at her doubtfully. Some of the delicate colour which the afternoon walk had brought into her cheeks had already returned. I would have heard her. A black silk furbelowed scarf covered her shoulders; and over the kincob gown hung a yellow satin apron, trimmed with white Persian. Suddenly, she heard the crunch of new feet on the gravel. She set her fingers in the hair and tugged, drawing him to a sitting posture and stooping so that her eyes would be on the level with his when he awoke. “Difficulties indeed. Your father has forbidden you to go!’” “Well?” “She said, ‘I hate being horrid to you and father, but I feel it my duty to go to that ball!’” “Felt it her duty!” “‘Very well,’ I said, ‘then I wash my hands of the whole business.
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