He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. ’ Lucilla gaped. “I want to speak to you about a little thing, Vee,” said Mr. ” “Every one hasn’t the Gift. “Believe what, Michelle?” Lucy asked. Ennison,” he said, “it is for you to cut in at Lady Angela’s table. This employment seemed to afford him the highest satisfaction; for a diabolical grin—it cannot be called a smile—played upon his face all the time he was engaged in it. .
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