" "Knock him on the head," thundered Sir Cecil, "or we shall have the watch upon us. Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. "Mother!" cried the son, "help!" "What is this?" shrieked Lady Trafford, raising herself on the couch, and extending her hands towards him. Brendon told him the name of a distant restaurant and sprang in by her side. She really must not go to that affair. It was he who saw them first coming down the room—Annabel in a wonderful white satin gown in front, and Sir John stiff, unbending, disapproving, bringing up the rear. “What do we want? What is the goal?” asked Ann Veronica. “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us.
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