CHAPTER XV. "He would return my letters unopened or destroy them. “I cannot pretend that I am glad to see you, Lady Ferringhall,” he said quietly. They did not want her. Don't suppose," she added, with a scornful glance at her helpmate, "that I would pay him the compliment of thinking he could possibly be the father of such a boy as you. But the first one was brought home, and it was the beginning of the end. I want to do something. Lucy entered the room. Not the explosive vigour of the north-born, but that which would quietly meet physical hardships and bear them triumphantly.
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