Ramage, that iron-gray man of the world, appeared dressed in a bowler hat and a suit of hard gray, astride of a black horse. She could neither speak nor move nor cry out. "You poor child!" said Prudence. Wood, I command you not to stir," vociferated the carpenter's better-half; "recollect you'll be answerable to me. You’re trespassing again, and I’ve come to arrest you,’ Gerald said promptly. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. "Come along, Mrs.
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