Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. So far he had not stirred; from his bloodless lips had come no sound. “Yes I did. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. Why should you want to shield him?" "I really don't know. My only love is for my poor lost son. " The lack of a family album for some reason put a little ache in her heart. " "Then this is not my child?" exclaimed she, with increased astonishment. Burn your palette and your easel. Kneebone's man is in the shop," said Rachel; "he'll take it. "It would be a thousand pities, wouldn't it, to put so promising a lad out of the way?" "Devil!" exclaimed the knight fiercely, "Give me the paper.
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