“Are you going on again this winter with that scientific work of yours? It’s an instance of heredity, I suppose. At length the task was done, and she jabbed the needle into a cushion, folded the coat, and rose. Lord Charvill’s sense of justice would not, however, allow him to repudiate his granddaughter, if indeed this female proved to be the infant lost to the family so many years ago. Martha was quite right. “I know that our social order is dreadful enough,” he said, “and sacrifices all that is best and most beautiful in life. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. ’ Fire enveloped Charvill’s mind and he brought up his cane, pointed like a musket. No more did she offer her forehead for the good-night kiss. For a time he would be the grim Protestant Flagellant, pursuing the idea of self-castigation. " "I'm sorry I can't indulge you," replied her master, a little piqued. “Too much sensibility and too cold a heart. “Come on in, Michelle.
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