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"Too late!" shrieked the lady, falling heavily backwards,—"too late!—oh!" Heedless of her cries, Jonathan passed a handkerchief tightly over her son's mouth, and forced him out of the room. ’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. “I shall send for a policeman,” Anna said, “directly my maid answers the bell— unless you choose to go before. Luckily, Sir James was so much engrossed by his own task, that both the remark and gesture escaped him.
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