” “I suppose we are,” said Vee, rearranging the flowers in her hand. He had brought the shrubs down from Syria, and, strangely enough, they had prospered. Louis the Fourteenth yet lived, and expectations were, therefore, indulged of assistance from France. ’ A twinkle crept into Mrs Sindlesham’s eye. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods.
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