"Well, Donnie, I will. It matters little who now knows everything. Wait one moment—my face. Give me a towel."
And with feminine precaution she hastily bathed her eyes and face, looking into the glass, and adjusted her hair.
"A thick veil, Donnie."
Old Gwynn adjusted it, and Lady Jane gathered in its folds in her hand; and behind this mask, with old Donnie near her, she glided down-stairs without encountering anyone, and entered the carriage, and lay back in one of its corners, leaving to Gwynn, who followed, to give the driver his directions.
When they had driven about a mile, Lady Jane became strangely excited.
"I must see him again—I must see him. Stop it. I will. Stop it." She was tugging at the window, which was stiff. "Stop him, Gwynn. Stop him, woman, and turn back."
"Don't, Miss Jennie; don't, darling. Ye could not, miss. Ye would not face all them strangers, ma'am."
"Face them! What do you mean? Face them! How dare they? I despise them—I defy them! What is their staring and whispering to me? I'll go back. I'll return. I will see him again."
"Well, Miss Jennie, where's the good? He's cold by this time."
"I must see him again, Donnie—I must."