Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. She hastened past. . He had “put his foot down,” and said she must not go. That night she found a ship bound to sail for the heathen nation called America. “Please forgive me coming up, Miss Pellissier, but you have not been down to dinner for three nights, and—Brendon and I—we were afraid that you might be unwell. I am your very dutiful niece, aunt, and your most devoted sister, Annabel. Mrs. A dry cough's the trumpeter of death. ” Lucy coolly marveled as she studied the girl’s face, belly swollen from pregnancy. . “Annabel,” she said, “I have never asked you for your confidence. This child was frequently disconcerting.
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