"Mother!" cried the son, "help!" "What is this?" shrieked Lady Trafford, raising herself on the couch, and extending her hands towards him. "Of yourself," he replied, in a mournful tone. ‘You were supposed to be nursing him,’ Martha grumbled, ‘and helping him convalesce. One would think that you enjoyed crawling away out of your world into hiding, with a very foolish wicked wife. Not one of them but bore the marks of having been engaged in a recent and severe conflict. But I trusted to that ring of yours. Moreover, she claims that this whole enterprise of hers is purely for the purpose of marrying an Englishman.
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