Some day she wanted to be loved as Marius loved Cosette; but there was another character which bit far more deeply into her mind. Wood, in indignant surprise. Practically it was most of the chief interests in life that she proposed to settle in this pedestrian meditation. “Good,” he said, as he watched the colour come back to her cheeks. For the present, he murmured his farewells, and turning, caught Hilary’s eye and walked away, crossing the ballroom to move into the less opulent, and less crowded, saloon next door where servants were dispensing refreshments. “Neither you nor I, Nigel, are made of such stuff,” she answered. The evenings were beginning to draw out, and it would not be dark for an hour.
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