My poor son despairs of me, for I have primed every member of the family to bring me the latest novels whenever they choose to visit. Tell him the truth, Annabel. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. Anna suddenly leaned forward and looked around her. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. Still, my tutor was a highly educated scholar—my father.
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