Edgeworth Bess wore a scarlet tabby negligée,—a sort of undress, or sack, then much in vogue,—which suited her to admiration, and upon her head had what was called a fly-cap, with richly-laced lappets. The hand which the man had been holding hung limp and nerveless at her side. Rather! Who could help it?” He towered up over her and smiled down at her in his fatherly way. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. “Let’s go in here. ” “You love—Anna?” she exclaimed. ” “I’m so glad you’ll go. "Mother, I come to you.
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