Forgetting her occupation in her anger, she left off bathing Darrell's wrist; and, squeezing his arm so tightly that the boy winced with pain, she clapped her right hand upon her hip, and turned, with flashing eyes and an inflamed countenance, towards her crest-fallen spouse. “What have you done?” 212 “It is your own fault, Lucia. ‘Mad as hatters!’ ‘It is you who is mad,’ mademoiselle told him crossly. He rose at once to his feet and turned a white face upon her. ’ The old man simply stared at her. He had never wanted daughters. ” “Lady Ferringhall—alone?” Ennison exclaimed. “What else was I to do?” For some seconds she stood watching him and both were thinking very quickly.
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