” The note of his own voice exasperated him. "Brother," cried Lady Trafford, her eye blazing with unnatural light, and her cheek suffused with a crimson stain: "Brother," she cried, lifting her thin fingers towards Heaven, "as God shall judge me, I was wedded to that murdered man!" "A lie!" ejaculated Sir Rowland, furiously; "a black, and damning lie!" "It is the truth," replied his sister, falling backwards upon the couch. She would rend him limb from limb like a fiend if only she could move. "You needn't gag me," he added, "I'll not cry out. "We've no time for any Bedlam scenes now. . She had not nursed Leonardo for weeks for nothing. Two souls in travail; one inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. "What is it?" "Can't you see? Together, down there; you and I!… As my wife! Both of us, never to be lonely again!… Will you marry me, Ruth?" As many a wiser woman had done, Ruth mistook thrilling eagerness for love.
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