Mr. “I’m sorry, ma’am, to seem the cause of any disturbance, but this,” he pointed to Anna, “is my wife. “You will pardon me, sir,” he said in a subdued tone, “but I think that you have forgotten to look at your engagement book. " Sir Rowland, meantime, throw himself on his knees beside his sister, and, clasping her chilly fingers within his own, besought her forgiveness in the most passionate terms. “Beats me. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. \" Obediently, Lucia rose from her seated position on the bed and approached the baby and the mother in wonderment. In the heart of the jungle the dog had his private muck baths. She was still more stirred by the idea of the equal citizenship of men and women, by the realization that a big and growing organization of women were giving form and a generalized expression to just that personal pride, that aspiration for personal freedom and respect which had brought her to London; but when she heard Miss Miniver discoursing on the next step in the suffrage campaign, or read of women badgering Cabinet Ministers, padlocked to railings, or getting up in a public meeting to pipe out a demand for votes and be carried out kicking and screaming, her soul revolted. .
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