A person of somewhat artificial graces and mannerisms, she was for once in her life perfectly natural. It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. "Again," cried Jonathan, sternly: "beware!" "What!" vociferated Trenchard. He dragged it out, and perceiving, in spite of the decayed frame, that it was the body of Sir Rowland Trenchard, commanded his attendants to convey it up stairs—an order which was promptly obeyed.
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