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‘I would read your body,’ he whispered, and lifted her fingers to his lips. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. She opened the window, for the night was mild, and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon the window-sill. Lady Lescelles, graceful, very fashionably but quietly dressed, leaned back and watched her with shrewd kindly eyes. ‘I take it that you like this great-niece of mine?’ ‘One cannot help but do so. Won’t you come and have some tea with me? There is a new place in Bond Street,” he hastened to say, “where everything is very well done, and they give us music, if that is any attraction to you. The veranda bamboo will be enough for me.
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