Do help me, Lady Ferringhall. But Jonathan was not to be deterred. He gave an order, the proa was floated and the sail run up. We must wash out those stains up stairs, and burn the cloth. Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. He had been for months without music of the character he loved—and he dared not play any of it! McClintock, after the music began, left the piano and sat in a corner just beyond the circle of light cast by the lamp. Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. Lord Charvill’s sense of justice would not, however, allow him to repudiate his granddaughter, if indeed this female proved to be the infant lost to the family so many years ago.
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