With this view, he hurried to the spot where he had left the post-chaise, and found it drawn up at the road-side, the postilion dismounted, and in charge of a couple of farming-men. “I have been bearing this—for your sake. Rain pounded the tin roof, and waterfalls obscured the pavilion into its own private 91 chamber. Courtlaw found himself ushered without questions into Annabel’s long low drawing-room, fragrant with flowers and somewhat to his surprise, crowded with guests. . . Rollo began to cavort. \" She whispered back.
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