"Well that's no reason why he should treat your ladyship so shamefully,
I'm sure. Ah! how I wish, poor dear Sir Cecil were alive! he'd keep him
in order."

Lady Trafford sighed deeply.

"Your ladyship has never been well since you married Sir Cecil,"
rejoined Mrs. Norris. "For my part, I don't think you ever quite got
over the accident you met with on the night of the Great Storm."

"Norris!" gasped Lady Trafford, trembling violently.

"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."

"It is past," rejoined Lady Trafford, recovering herself by a powerful
effort; "but never allude to the circumstance again. Go and prepare for
our departure."

In less time than Hobson had mentioned, the carriage was announced. And
Lady Trafford having been carried down stairs, and placed within it, the
postboy drove off, at a rapid pace for Barnet.




CHAPTER VIII.

Miching Mallecho.