She turned ghastly pale, and clutched at a chair.
“No, no,” she cried, as she battled with her fears; “he is too brave and strong, and he will have Mellersh on his side. I have done right, I am sure. It is half breaking his heart, poor fellow; but better the sharp pain now than one that would last for life.”
Volume Three—Chapter Three.
Mr Barclay is Busy.
Josiah Barclay sat at his writing-table, looking about the most uncompromising specimen of humanity possible, when the door was softly opened, and his man-servant came in.
“And nine’s seventy-three,” muttered Barclay, making an entry. “Hang the woman! I wish she’d come down and go on with these accounts. Well, Joseph?”
“Lady Drelincourt, sir.”
“Humph! Bless her! Let her wait. Seen that monkey again, Joseph?”