How she had coveted her mother’s beauty and sought to emulate it, if only to please her. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. ‘I believe that. “Go down and rescue the rags of my reputation,” she said, smiling. Perhaps the boys had already faced off and he had missed it, he thought sourly. She tried not to pant, not to reveal herself, and she began to shake. She has no proof—yet. Given time and the right environment, and he would outgrow these defects.
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