“I was glad you did not send it back again,” he said. . . Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. “I promise, Lucy. Jack, who had been lingering near the group, now walked on. . One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate. It was 1582. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. The latter has, since, been induced to unite herself to Sir Cecil, on terms originating with her brother, and which, however strange and unprecedented, were acquiesced in by the suitor.
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