“Sir John,” her aunt repeated, with thin emphasis, “is coming to see your sister. He did not play golf, but took his exercise on horseback, which was also unsympathetic. This is your room. . Lady Palsworthy was the widow of a knight who had won his spurs in the wholesale coal trade, she was of good seventeenth-century attorney blood, a county family, and distantly related to Aunt Mollie’s deceased curate. I think we rest here until to-morrow?” There was a brief silence. She was keenly resolved to do well in the school examination, and not to be drowned in the seas of emotion that threatened to submerge her intellectual being. Other phrases returned now, like echoes. “No, stay, Lucy.
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