She rang again with the same result. He is the kind of man who would much prefer a little dust in his eyes. "I knew how it would be," she cried, in the shrill voice peculiar to a shrew, "when you brought that worthless hussy's worthless brat into the house. The girl was flushed with excitement, bright-eyed, and braced for a struggle; her aunt had never seen her looking so fine or so pretty. "Is she returned!" "Y—e—s, Sir Rowland," stammered Charcam. Her cheeks were the colour of chalk, her eyes were filled with terror.
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