" "True," replied the widow, upon whom all the terrible recollections of the day before crowded, "I know it isn't. A dull light shone through the open window blinds and softened the room with parchment yellowness. The touch of his lips neither thrilled nor alarmed her, because the eyes that looked into hers were clean. The faithful fellow will never leave me. In truth, she would quite like to have him rescue her. He was, however, instantly beaten back; and the fury of the mob was so great that it was with difficulty he could effect a retreat. I was visiting the royal family, as they sought me for a tutor for their sons over the summer. Miss Garvice repeated again, and almost in the same words she used at every discussion, her contribution to the great question. "Shall I never banish those horrible phantoms from my couch—the father with his bleeding breast and dripping hair!—the mother with her wringing hands and looks of vengeance and reproach!—And must another be added to their number—their son! Horror!—let me be spared this new crime! And yet the gibbet—my name tarnished—my escutcheon blotted by the hangman!—No, I cannot submit to that.
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