Wood scarcely knew where he was. Miraculously, her schoolmates were so upswept in their own summer planning that they had no time to interrogate her. “I have loved you,” he was saying, “ever since you sat on that gate and talked. Chapter XVII THE CHANGE IN “ALCIDE” “By-the-bye,” his neighbour asked him languidly, “who is our hostess?” “Usually known, I believe, as Lady Ferringhall,” Ennison answered, “unless I have mixed up my engagement list and come to the wrong house. His job as a painter was wearing him down acutely as he aged. The sun was setting in spectacular multicolored streams beyond Whitefield Park.
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