They crossed the Park to the westward, and then turned back and walked round the circle about the Royal Botanical Gardens and then southwardly toward Waterloo. “I want to speak to you about a little thing, Vee,” said Mr. Hill was seated. She was obliged, as she explained continually to every one who cared to listen, to be so very particular. They were headed by an athleticlooking, swarthy-featured man, who was armed with a cutlass, which he waved over his head to cheer on his companions. “Delusion!” “You can call it what you like,” she said. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude.
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