It is of no use. You must forgive the poet’s license I take. By the time he had reached the summit of this hill, he had lost all trace of them; and the ardour of the chase having in some measure subsided, he began to reproach himself for his folly, in having wandered—as he conceived—so far out of his course. Capes agreed with the utmost cordiality. The young lady with frizzled hair, whom Brendon had pointed out to her as Miss Ellicot, leaned forward from her hostess’s side. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. CHAPTER XXVI. They are not bad girls, but the average tourist has that misconception of them.
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