Part 2 When at last she did so, the sapphire ring took on a new quality in the imagination of Capes. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. Jackson, mean time, produced a pocket-book; and, after deliberately sharpening the point of a pencil, began to write on a blank leaf. “Perhaps you will not object to answering one for me. With a rustle of her full lilac petticoats, Miss Froxfield turned back to Alderley. It is perfectly intrusive of me, and I quite see that you must be sick to death of running into such an interfering busybody all the time. Believe me, it will be better by far that you should consent to marry me. He speaks English. We'll get those books into your room first. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically.
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