” For some seconds he had remained quite still. “It is very good of you to come and see me, my dear sister,” Annabel remarked, throwing herself into a low chair, and clasping her hands over her head. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. To prevent the leaves from blowing about, should a blow develop, he distributed paper weights. She possessed what he affected to despise, but secretly worshipped—the innate charm of breeding. And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict.
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