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A smile trembled at the corners of her mouth as she recalled Gerald’s ridiculous upbraiding of his own reflection in the mirror. Some one had once, in his hearing, called him a prig. "Spare me!" he groaned, looking upwards. The lace was family lace, easily recognizable. I am the richest man in the world. . It’s best. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon.
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