Wait a moment. ‘What did you do with the portrait then? Not that I suppose it is much use any longer. I've seen him often do it. The estates must, ere long, revert to Sir Rowland. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. Love is one thing and friendship quite another. ’ ‘Who is that?’ demanded Lucilla eagerly. "What do you mean?" cried Winifred in alarm. At this moment, a door was opened below; lights gleamed on the walls; and the figures of Rowland and Sir Cecil were distinguished at the foot of the stairs. He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice.
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