A bobbing lantern, crossing the bridge—for she had not drawn the curtain—attracted her attention. Sir John, who was standing outside, looked past him at the girl still sitting in the shadow. Easy enough to look as if one rides away. But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. She found herself trying on the baubles he brought home, placing the silver rings upon her slim fingers, knowing that he would take up her hand and kiss it. Well, I'd no idea," she continued, pursuing her ruminations as she left the room, "that people of quality laughed so. "You speak English better than I do," said O'Higgins, as the coolies jogged across the bridge toward the gate. Kneebone, are these your French noblemen?" "Don't upbraid me!" rejoined the woollen-draper.
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