"Yes—what do you mean, Ma'am?" added Jack, staggering after her. And in those days, too, he used to help her mother with her gardening, and hover about her while she stood on the ladder and hammered creepers to the scullery wall. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him in order. It struck the major that she was very young. Anna sent her away. He walked in her direction. He was vaguely uneasy; he knew not what about. He often wanted only to drive with her in the car, both of them staring at the scenery in silence for hours. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year.
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