Please sit down, Miss —dear me, I haven’t asked you your name yet. Edgeworth Bess wore a scarlet tabby negligée,—a sort of undress, or sack, then much in vogue,—which suited her to admiration, and upon her head had what was called a fly-cap, with richly-laced lappets. Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. ‘He don’t mean you no harm. Why on earth couldn’t he leave her to grow in her own way? Her pride rose at the bare thought of return. "Your uncle, Sir Rowland?" "It is no idle boasting," replied the other.
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