I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. To-night there seemed to be a new brilliancy in her eyes, a deeper quality in her tone. She looked at him curiously. The Morning Post was hungry for governesses and nursery governesses, but held out no other hopes; the Daily Telegraph that morning seemed eager only for skirt hands. Where was the expected message from this captain, who had promised to send her word at the instant Gerald returned to town. Suddenly, she heard the crunch of new feet on the gravel. " "Now for it," thought the woollen-draper, "I shall, at least, ascertain how the land lies.
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