Prior to retiring to her bed, Annot had let down and was coiling up her wonderful wealth of golden hair, which reached almost to her knees; and she and Hester Maule, with whom she was still on perfectly amicable and apparently loving terms, were exchanging their gossiping confidences, as young girls often do at such a time; and on this occasion Hester thought--for a space--she might be wrong in supposing that Annot had any serious views upon Roland Lindsay, as she saw her drop, and then hastily snatch up, a photograph on which she had been gazing with a smile. 'Who is this, Annot?' asked Hester. 'Only old Bob.' 'Who?' 'Bob Hoyle,' replied Annot, laughing. 'Old; why, he seems quite a boy, In uniform, too.' 'He is not a boy, though I call him "old."' 'His age?' 'Is four-and-twenty; but I have known him so long, you know, Hester.' 'Since when?' 'Since he used to come and see his sister at Madame Raffineur's school in Belgium. He is awfully in love with me.' 'Is?' queried Hester, a little relieved of her suspicions. 'Well--was--when younger.' 'And now?' 'He loves me still, I have no doubt.' 'Do you mean to marry him?' 'He has never asked me.' 'Well, if he did--or does ask you?' 'I don't know about that,' said Annot, as with deft little fingers she finished and pinned her golden coil. 'Why so?' 'Oh, cousin Hester, how inquisitive you are! I like him immensely. He says openly that he can't stand the London girls; that they are all very well to flirt with, dance, drive, and talk with; but he wants a wife who in her own sweet person will combine all the charms of fashionable and domestic life, like me. But then he is so poor; has little more than his pay. I can't fancy being poorer than I am--love in a cottage is all bosh, you know; but I have promised him----' 'What?' 'To think about it; but I won't be bound by promises, Hester. When I marry I want to be rich. I must have a carriage, beautiful horses, diamonds and dresses, for I have no _dot_ of my own. Marry for love, indeed! No, no, Bob, dear. Who in these days does anything so absurd as that? It is as much out of fashion as chivalry, duels, and periwigs.' 'Oh, Annot--so young and so mercenary!' exclaimed Hester. 'Not mercenary, only practical, cousin. Another dear fellow did so love me last winter, Hester!' said the girl, with a dreamy smile. 'And now?' 'We are less than nothing to each other, Hester--after all--after all.' 'How--why?' 'He was a second son--Mamma's _bête noire_; besides, a married lady took him off my hands.' 'A married lady?' exclaimed Hester. 'Yes--oh, my simple cousin! The mischief done in London nowadays by married flirts would amaze you, Hester; but good-night, I am so sleepy, dear.' And kissing the latter with great _empressement_ on each cheek, Annot departed to repose with one of her silvery laughs, leaving the impression that if 'she was passing fair' she was also passing heartless. CHAPTER VIII. 'IT WAS NO DREAM.'