“You are the Sir John Ferringhall who has bought the Lyndmore estate, are you not?” she remarked. And instead he found her playing the great lady, and playing it well. Young and old were dressed in their gayest apparel; and it was evident from the smiles that lighted up every countenance, from the roguish looks of the younger swains, and the demure expression of several pretty rustic maidens, that a ceremony, which never fails to interest all classes,—a wedding,—was about to take place. As we turned the corner of the street, I noticed that the electric light was burning in this room. “I’ll go. “I really do not believe,” he announced with satisfaction, “that any one would recognize me. “This is my way back to my side of the Park,” she said. His face turned a dark crimson.
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