“To be frank with you, Lady Lescelles, when your brother asked me the other day to be his wife I was under a false impression as regards his relations—with some other person. In my search after strange characters, Mr. The great gray boles of the palms reminded him of some fabulous Grecian temple. The other kicked over the traces a bit, made rather a hit with her singing at some of those French places, and went the pace in a mild, ladylike sort of way. "Oh!" she gasped. He fancied that the turnkeys had discovered his flight and were in pursuit of him,—that they had climbed up the chimney,—entered the Red Room,— tracked him from door to door, and were now only detained by the gate which he had left unbroken in the chapel. ’ ‘Did no one know, then?’ ‘No, for the vicomte, we learned later, wrote to General Lord Charvill in pursuit of his sister.
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