The advanced guard rode on to drive away any opposition, while the main body of the procession crossed the bridge, and slowly toiled up Holborn Hill. "Do me the favour to seat yourself, Jack," said Sir James. “I love you, Ann Veronica. I felt—I felt living in a masked world. Upon a table, where they had been hastily deposited, on the intelligence of Darrell's accident, lay a pair of pink kid gloves, bordered with lace, and an enormous fan; the latter, when opened, represented the metamorphosis and death of Actæon. A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. "If things had gone smoothly," he thought, "I should have cursed the fellow's stupidity. Years ago, when you were a girl and in the bloom of your beauty, I loved you.
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