Michelle was laid onto the back seat, her head cradled in Lucy’s lap. The haste to send her upon her way now had but one interpretation—the recognition of his own immediate danger, the fear that if this tender association continued, he would end in offering her a calamity quite as impossible as that which had happened—the love of a man who was in all probability older than her father! The hurt was no less intensive because it was so ridiculous. Miss Ellicot pursed her lips and sat a little more upright. " "Proceed, Sir," said Trenchard, breathing hard. Hogarth," he observed, significantly. So he made merry at the dinner table, told comic stories, and was astonished at the readiness with which she grasped the comic side of life.
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