"Bone of my bone! flesh of my flesh! have I cursed thee--and art thou
accursed?"

So she moaned, as she lay prostrate in her great agony. I stood
aghast at my own work. She did not hear my broken sentences; she
asked no more, but the dumb confirmation which my sad looks had given
that one fact, that her curse rested on her own daughter's child.
The fear grew on me lest she should die in her strife of body and
soul; and then might not Lucy remain under the spell as long as she
lived?

Even at this moment, I saw Lucy coming through the woodland path that
led to Bridget's cottage; Mistress Clarke was with her: I felt at my
heart that it was she, by the balmy peace which the look of her sent
over me, as she slowly advanced, a glad surprise shining out of her
soft quiet eyes. That was as her gaze met mine. As her looks fell
on the woman lying stiff, convulsed on the earth, they became full of
tender pity; and she came forward to try and lift her up. Seating
herself on the turf, she took Bridget's head into her lap; and, with
gentle touches, she arranged the dishevelled gray hair streaming
thick and wild from beneath her mutch.

"God help her!" murmured Lucy. "How she suffers!"

At her desire we sought for water; but when we returned, Bridget had
recovered her wandering senses, and was kneeling with clasped hands
before Lucy, gazing at that sweet sad face as though her troubled
nature drank in health and peace from every moment's contemplation.
A faint tinge on Lucy's pale cheeks showed me that she was aware of