O God! O God!" And he appeared convulsed with agony. Do you think I would marry you? Rather would I marry the pig in the convent. Her loneliness was consuming, Lucia. A great bowl of scarlet carnations gleamed from a dark corner, set against the background of a deep brown wall. That would be an unkind twist of fate. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. Anna glanced into her sister’s face, and rose to her feet.
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