It was impossible. ’ ‘What of your grandfather?’ Her lips parted in surprise. “Poor Lucy!” Cathy exclaimed as she rushed in the door, umbrella sheathed. ” “As long as you remain under my roof—” he began, and paused. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. " "For whom, Sir?" inquired Charcam. “You frighten me!” He smiled at her indulgently. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. “What has he done? “What shall I do.
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