‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. “Dinner is served, m’m,” said the efficient parlor-maid in the archway, and the worst was over. But she had not reckoned with the etiquette of Canongate. When they came to the round-house, Terry's courage failed him. You were pointed out to me at—a few nights ago. Where is Sir Rowland?" "In the library, your ladyship. Her breath came fast in little sobbing pants. "He is," replied a portly personage, arrayed in a gorgeous yellow brocade dressing-gown, lined with cherry-coloured satin, and having a crimson velvet cap, surmounted by a gold tassel, on his head.
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