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"Here, take this and get the letter and open and read it. A paralyzing horror was upon her. “Listen! There was a Meysey Hill in Paris, an American railway millionaire. She stood looking down upon him with dilated eyes. She entered the front hall, formerly magnificent, now faded and dusty, the old wood table waiting for guests who would never come. Only in her eyes there seemed to be some apprehension of the fact that the young man’s clothes and manners were alike undesirable things. I could tell it was Italian, you see. ” “It would be different all the same. ’ ‘Don’t be too sure,’ said Miss Froxfield darkly, with a mischievous glance at her betrothed. . " CHAPTER XI. We'll celebrate that check, and let the rest of the world go hang. Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station.
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