He left that arid rule clear of the least mist of refinement or delicacy. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. “My dear,” the letter ran, “I have to tell you that your sister Gwen has offended your father very much. “I was sick of the make-believe. While he was straining every sinew, his foot slipped, and he fell, head foremost, into a deep trench, which he had not observed in the dark. "My horses, Charcam," he said, as a servant appeared.
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