She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. At this moment, a door was opened below; lights gleamed on the walls; and the figures of Rowland and Sir Cecil were distinguished at the foot of the stairs. Spurlock bent his head to his knees. " CHAPTER IX. “You are magnificent,” she said, “but the steel of your truth is a little oversharpened. ‘Now then, Gerald, out with it.
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