How far this vice may
have had its origin in the fact that she had secrets of her own,
might be an interesting question.
As to the mysterious communication she had made to her, Lady Florimel
was not able to turn her mind to it--nor indeed for some time was
she able to think of anything.
CHAPTER XLI: THE CLOUDED SAPPHIRES
Before they reached the bottom of the hill, however, Florimel had
recovered her spirits a little, and had even attempted a laugh at
the ridiculousness of her late situation; but she continued very
pale. They sat down beside the baskets--on some great stones,
fallen from the building above. Because of his foot, they would not
allow Malcolm to serve them, but told Mair and him to have their
dinner near, and called the former when they wanted anything.
Lady Florimel revived still more after she had had a morsel of
partridge and a glass of wine, but every now and then she shuddered:
evidently she was haunted by the terror of her late position, and,
with the gladness of a discoverer, the marquis bethought himself of
Malcolm's promised tale, as a means of turning her thoughts aside
from it. As soon, therefore, as they had finished their meal he
called Malcolm, and told him they wanted his story.
"It's some fearsome," said Malcolm, looking anxiously at the pale
face of Lady Florimel.
"Nonsense!" returned the marquis; for he thought, and perhaps
rightly, that if such it would only serve his purpose the better.
Pages:
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392