‘Lord in heaven, did I do that?’ exclaimed Gerald remorsefully. ‘Your niece, ma’am. He carried a cane and a silk hat with a mourning-band in one gray-gloved hand; his frock-coat and trousers were admirable; his handsome face, his black mustache, his prominent brow conveyed an eager solicitude. Dieu du ciel, but where was Gerald? On the move again, she found herself standing before one of the mirrors, gazing into her own countenance without seeing it. ‘No need to shake in your boots,’ Gerald said soothingly. "Safe!" shouted Darrell, as he effected a secure landing.
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