It seemed a bitter irony. Was this morning, then, like any other morning, that the habits and customs of the house were to go on as usual?
"Am I to get up?" asked she, in a dazed way. "Why yes, of course. I must get up, I suppose."
"Ain't you well, Miss Wyn?" queried Sally, in a doubtful voice.
"Not quite, Sal. I have been working too hard, I think. But now I remember, I must get up, for my proofs are not corrected. When they are finished, I think—I think that I must take a little rest."
CHAPTER XLIV.
Unwise
I loved and was lowly, loved and aspired,
Loved, grieving or glad, till I made you mad,
And you meant to have hated and despised,
Whereas you deceived me, nor inquired.
The Worst of It.
It was the second morning after Lady Mabel's dinner-party. Claud and his niece sat together in the morning-room, discussing the affairs of the nation. A large picture-book was spread out across the young lady's knees, and her most serious attention was being bestowed on a picture of Joseph in the pit, which subject her uncle elucidated by a commentary not exactly remarkable for Scriptural accuracy.