She did most urgently desire to save her face in Morningside Park, and for long hours she could think of no way of putting it that would not be in the nature of unconditional admission of defeat. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. Ramage leaned over the gate at Ann Veronica’s side, and for a moment there was silence. Ennison,” she said, letting her fingers rest in his. Poor fellow! he sometimes indulges the hope of marrying you, when he grows old enough. Pardon what I have said, Madam. But she could see that Diane watched her more closely now, and in a cat-like way.
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