Upon a table, where they had been hastily deposited, on the intelligence of Darrell's accident, lay a pair of pink kid gloves, bordered with lace, and an enormous fan; the latter, when opened, represented the metamorphosis and death of Actæon. To-morrow I am going to Paris. He next searched for his stockings and shoes, and when found, put them on. The Bed Room 400 XIX. Her whole conduct and tone had been modest and ladylike. The aunt laughed. Was the young lady impatient for experience? Was she adventurous? As a man of the world he did not think it becoming to accept maidenly calm as anything more than a mask. What had she so nearly said? She had almost spoken a name—and quickly withdrawn it.
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