So he liked to go by a different train. But he was not a father one could make much of. "In favour of my son. I do not think you quite understand my ideals or what is becoming as between father and daughter. "You'd better surrender quietly, Jack," he cried; "you've no chance. ‘I assure you it was mutual. "My sight is failing me. “Did he tell you, Annabel?” “Yes. His mouth was sensuous but his eyes became frenetic. “Never mind. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. About this time,—namely, in November, 1703— while young Trenchard was in Lancashire, and his sister in London, on a visit, he received a certain communication from his confidential servant, Davies, which, at once, destroyed his hopes. She went on her way now no longer dreaming and appreciative, but disturbed and unwillingly observant behind her mask of serene contentment.
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