And his scarlet coat had nothing to do with it, as Hilary was fond of recounting, for he had been in civilian clothes when they met, as he was tonight. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. “What has he to do with it?” “He was your sister’s master—her friend. “But what are you going to do?” asked Hetty. . Let him have his honeymoon. Beneath the hood it was evident that her rebellious hair was bound up with red silk, and fastened by some device in her ears (unless she had them pierced, which was too dreadful a thing to suppose!) were long brass filigree earrings.
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