"Nothing—nothing," she answered, bursting into tears. She was dressed as English girls do dress for town, without either coquetry or harshness: her collarless blouse confessed a pretty neck, her eyes were bright and steady, and her dark hair waved loosely and graciously over her ears. The eldest, Constance, was lost, by the carelessness of a servant, during her infancy, and has never since been heard of: the youngest, Aliva, is the present Lady Trafford. At the head of the cart was placed the coffin. “Not to-night,” she said. “Ciao, Fragolina. The cork came out with a loud pop, and Anna could not help wondering how it must sound to the patient little crowd outside. But you are Annabel.
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