“I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea. And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. It frightened her to behold her heart and mind thus laid bare; but the chapter following would reassure her. The more her thoughts dwelt upon the subject, the more convinced she was that she could not go to any one for help; she would have to solve the riddle by her own efforts, by some future experience. Me, I prefer to forget that I have such a father. Ireton," cried Jack, in accents of the most urgent entreaty, "before you take me hence, I implore you—if you would further the ends of justice—search this house. This young man did not drink because he sought the false happiness that lured men to the bottle.
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