There is so little abandon, so little real joyousness. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth. “Beautiful these autumn flowers are,” said Ann Veronica, in a wide, uncomfortable pause. She was supposed to be reading at home, and after breakfast she strolled into the vegetable garden, and having taken up a position upon the staging of a disused greenhouse that had the double advantage of being hidden from the windows of the house and secure from the sudden appearance of any one, she resumed the reading of Mr. Tell him the truth, Annabel. Proper enough now, when he could not help himself, but the habit would be formed; and when he was strong again it would become the normal role, hers to give and his to receive. "She wouldn't let me go.
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