” Ann Veronica meditated over that phrase. Brendon. It rained slightly, and a thick mist gathered in the air, and obscured the beautiful prospect. Her glance, absorbing the gilt letters and their significance, communicated to her poised body a species of paralysis. He passed but a cursory glance over the formal certificate that identified the Frenchman before him as one André Valade, distant cousin to the Vicomte Valade. ‘You are a born rebel, ma’am, and I can see now where she gets it from. —Sorry to quit your lord—worships, I mean,—I don't know what I mean," she added, a little confused, and dropping a profound curtsey to the disguised noblemen, each of whom replied by a bow, worthy, in her opinion, of a prince of the blood at the least,—"but I've a few necessary orders to give below. “Dear old Daddy,” she said, “he’ll make a fearful fuss. “This is mere nonsense, mere tongue-tied fear!” she said. . She almost sprang to her feet.
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