Lady Ferringhall listened, and her cheeks grew pale. They almost made me feel like they were mine. When a mere child she fixed her affections upon a youth named Thames Darrell, whom her father brought up, and who perished, it is supposed, about nine years ago; and she has determined to remain faithful to his memory. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. She learned quickly, absorbing all she could as quickly as possible as her adoration grew for him. Mauled about!” She fell to rubbing her insulted lips savagely with the back of her hand. In Wych Street Owen Wood did dwell; A carpenter he was by trade, And money, I believe, he made.
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