Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. By and by she heard the screen door. Forgetting her occupation in her anger, she left off bathing Darrell's wrist; and, squeezing his arm so tightly that the boy winced with pain, she clapped her right hand upon her hip, and turned, with flashing eyes and an inflamed countenance, towards her crest-fallen spouse. After all, his was a pleasant face, and a pleasant voice, and very likely Annabel had behaved badly. "You are, Sir," thundered Jonathan; "and, unless you find him, you shan't hold your place a week. ‘Did I say so? When last heard from you were claiming some good English name.
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