There, hanging among Ann Veronica’s more normal clothing, was a skimpy dress of red canvas, trimmed with cheap and tawdry braid, and short—it could hardly reach below the knee. Jack who had not been in a place of worship for many years was powerfully affected. "Ah!" exclaimed Lady Trafford, exerting all her strength. She was a large, resilient girl, with a foolish smile, a still more foolish expression of earnestness, and a throaty contralto voice. It was very pretty and very dainty while it lasted, but we played it with our eyes open, and we perfectly understood the game—both of us. “Kindly explain it to me. .
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