Ennison’s acquaintance. In the midst of the holy place, which he had formerly profaned, lay the body of his unfortunate mother, and he could not help looking upon her untimely end as the retributive vengeance of Heaven for the crime he had committed. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. Perhaps her odd beauty—and that too was natural—stirred these thoughts into being. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. “Ann Veronica is looking very well, don’t you think?” he said, a little awkwardly.
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