A cab opportunely approached, and Hal engaged it. He lifted Lotte in: she had not power to help herself. He followed her into the vehicle, and gave his directions to the driver.
The man whipped his horse, and the cab rattled away from the bridge.
Lotte thought of the sombre river, whirling on grimly, and she shuddered violently.
Hal pressed her hand.
“The gloomiest lane, Lotte,” he whispered, “sometimes leads us to the brightest land.”
CHAPTER XIII.—THE FORGED DEED.
The same self-love in all becomes the cause
Of what restrains him, government and laws.
For what one likes, if others like as well,
What serves one will, when many wills rebel?
How shall he keep what, sleeping or awake,
A weaker may surprise, a stronger take?
—Pope.
Mr. Grahame’s dissertation upon the improvement of land and the general economy and management of estates had been abruptly interrupted by the entrance of his daughter into the room where the guests and family were assembled. His apathetic and somewhat drowsy auditor, the young Duke, immediately on observing the approach of Helen Grahame, with a slight excuse to his host, emancipated himself from the dull topic droned into his ears, and advanced hastily to meet her.