’ ‘I suppose you want to take her along as well as that infernal stolen horse?’ said Hilary sarcastically. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. You have been to see your sister, of course. Sheppard, who had again looked round towards her son, beheld a hand glance along the side of the woollendraper. ’ ‘You’re incorrigible,’ scolded Hilary, beginning to follow. "You are the son of Sir Montacute Trenchard, of Ashton-Hall, near Manchester.
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