And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. I hope you will always love her, but I want you to remember she has offended your father and married without his consent. Your sister! Great God, how like she is to what you were!” Annabel looked around her nervously. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. You poor man, what have you been doing to yourself?” “Nothing except travelling all night,” he answered. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. "I'm not worth it. But I should certainly want to be rid of Mr.
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