“No Christmas dinner,” she said, “or anything nice! One doesn’t even know what you are doing. Annabel seated herself in an easy chair and determined to wait for her sister’s return. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. She calmed herself, breathing deeply. “Please call me Carol. ‘Comment? This is not a mirror!’ It was a portrait. . Terror had laid a paralyzing hand upon her, fear kept her almost unconscious of the curious glances which she was continually attracting. “If you cannot listen to me now it must remain undelivered.
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