Her aunt was blandly amiable above a certain tremulous undertow, and talked as if to a caller about the alarming spread of marigolds that summer at the end of the garden, a sort of Yellow Peril to all the smaller hardy annuals, while her father brought some papers to table and presented himself as preoccupied with them. Mr. " "A bold resolution," said the woollen-draper. " "From some of your associates?" "From your uncle, from my uncle,—Sir Rowland Trenchard. Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland. "What of her?" exclaimed Jack, starting up. The chamber rang with her shrieks. He watched her, savoring her curious attention. See paragraph 1.
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