'We are going first of all to the Pilkingtons', in Warwickshire,' said Annabel, talking with Mrs. Ormonde at the latter's hotel in the last week of July. 'Mr. Lanyard-the poet, you know-will be there; I am curious to see him. Father remembers him a 'scrubby starveling'-to use his phrase-a reviewer of novels for some literary paper. He has just marr