As Mrs. Annabel shines like a star in the darkness, Rosamund queens it a rose, deep rose; But the lady I love is like sunshine in April weather, She gleams and gladdens, she warms—and goes. Too intent on her search, and convinced besides that she was quite alone, she had been an easy prey. There was no keeping Sheila from the truth, and it was better that anyone who lived under her roof knew it. He touched her hand, soft and cool to his fingers—she turned at once to look at him. “Any choice as to which of the Halls? You can pick and choose, you know.
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