" "That isn't the point, Hoddy. "Don't speak ill of him behind his back, father," interposed Thames. Egad! I shall make a good thing of it. Annabel had been here then. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. He had assumed that her leaving home was the point at issue, that everything turned on that, and that the sole alternative was obedience, and she had fallen in with that assumption until rebellion seemed a sacred principle. Throwing down the pencil, she snatched up a piece of India-rubber, and exclaiming,—"It isn't at all like him! it isn't half handsome enough!" was about to efface the sketch, when Thames darted into the room. " "Sit down, my dear, sit down," interposed Mrs. ” She said, knowing that his kindness was certainly not the primary motivation for his magnum opus.
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