Everything was going to hell. The image of Major Alderley came into her mind. Just sit down on that stool again and let’s talk of this in cold blood. Remember ——” Annabel clutched her sister’s arm. The procession had just got into line of march, when a dreadful groan, mixed with yells, hootings, and execrations, was heard. She swallowed hard. He had heard nothing. Besides," she added, blushing yet more deeply, "it isn't a proper one to talk upon. I fought. Her father’s ideas of expostulation were a little harsh and forcible, and over the claret-colored table-cloth and under the gas chandelier, with his hat and umbrella between them like the mace in Parliament, he and his daughter contrived to have a violent quarrel. Satisfied in this respect, he flung himself into a chair, for his iron frame seldom required the indulgence of a bed, and sought an hour's repose before he began the villanies of another day.
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