Epithalamy might do. That’s the wonder of it. ’ Disappointment flooded her. One of your aunts died, I believe, and the other removed to London. She rehearsed the story of her forlorn long lost mother in her head, what she would say to the theorymongers. On a sudden, a change came over her countenance, which, up to this moment, had worn a smiling and satisfied expression. Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. With this view, he suffered him to pass on. “You are very good,” she said. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. My death, probably. “Is that not rather a profitless speculation, my friend?” He seemed deaf to her interruption.
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