‘Pray you, mademoiselle, can you not—’ ‘No use trying to enlist Lucilla’s aid,’ snapped Roding. . ‘You were right, miss. “How dared you do yourself this injustice?” “I did it for her sake,” she answered. But she felt his lax figure become rigid. He spent a good deal more money and time than he could afford upon the little room at the top of the house, in producing new lapidary apparatus and new microscopic accessories and in rubbing down slices of rock to a transparent thinness and mounting them in a beautiful and dignified manner. He found his youngest daughter intrusive in his thoughts all through the morning, and still more so in the afternoon. It reminded her viscerally of her subhuman status, stripped away of the pretenses of art, intellect, and nicety. Nice lady.
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