" "My poor son!" groaned the widow, sinking backwards. " "Sir Rowland is my brother," resumed Lady Trafford coldly. I have come to you for sympathy, perhaps for help. Wood's anxiety grew so insupportable, that he seized his hat with the intention of sallying forth in search of them, though he did not know whither to bend his steps, when his departure was arrested by a gentle knock at the door. He would have risen again, but for the significance of the action. ” She said bitterly. A dissipated, loose-living man. Not that it would make any difference if he was alive still.
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