“How do you know—why do you think that my name is Anna?” He smiled in a quietly superior way. “Oh, Lord!” she said, discovering what she was up to, and dropped lightly from the fence upon the turf and went on her way toward the crest. " "You are heiress to the Trenchard property," rejoined Jonathan, "one of the largest estates in Lancashire. I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would enable you to see this. ‘But this is not to my blame, grandpére. Queer old gentleman! The art of ignoring is one of the accomplishments of every well-bred girl, so carefully instilled that at last she can even ignore her own thoughts and her own knowledge. "Once there," proceeded Wild, without noticing the interruption, "he's as good as in his grave. She laughed nervously, but kept her eyes averted. I saw them both. It will be horribly dull, and she is a very trying person. ” “It is Number 8, Cavendish Square,” she answered simply.
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