CHAPTER XII. She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself. "Why, first," rejoined Austin, "there's Sir James Thornhill, historical painter to his Majesty, and the greatest artist of the day. How she needed him! Next moment, she had wrenched open the door, and was confronting her guard. " "Why what will she say?" inquired Sheppard. “I wish you would not do it. “My sister and I,” she said slowly, “have seen very little of each other lately. ” She said in Lucy’s direction. You will be—my wife. Love is a great thing, and happiness a joy.
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