"Mercy on us! what have I said!" cried the attendant, greatly alarmed by the agitation of her mistress; "do sit down, your ladyship, while I run for the ratifia and rosa solis. He was always drawing contrasts between a woman’s lot and a man’s, and treating her as a wonderful new departure in this comparison. ‘I told you I could handle her. She was clad in fresh linen, but still wore the riding-habit she had appropriated, having sponged out the spots of blood late last night and left it to dry in the kitchens. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind. . . “Serves you right if I’d cracked your skull.
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