But his treasured dream lay shattered at his feet. At this point Lucy, in an effort perhaps—foolhardy, in Gerald’s opinion—to pour oil on troubled waters, rose swiftly to her feet and came towards the old man, her hand held out. But here was a girl—she must be a girl, since she was his daughter and pat-able—imitating the woman quite remarkably and cleverly. “Did you ever see women so weary-looking and so dowdy? They do not talk. ” “Lady Ferringhall—alone?” Ennison exclaimed. He was certain that those lips of hers had never known the natural and pardonable simper of youth. But he was so feeble, that it seemed scarcely possible he could offer any effectual resistance in case of an attack.
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