’ ‘Never mind the comtesse,’ adjured Prudence. Purney, the ordinary, who had latterly conceived a great regard for Jack, addressed him in a discourse, which, while it tended to keep alive his feelings of penitence, was calculated to afford him much consolation. “Lady Ferringhall, sir. What was it in her heart or mind or soul that went out to this man? Music—was that it? Was he powerless to stir her without the gift? But hadn't he fascinated her by his talk, gentle and winning? Ah, but that had been after he had played for her. ” Lucy shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. Marry, come up! I'll show him what an injured wife can do. He’s out in Phoenix last I heard. " As he spoke, a smile crossed Sheppard's countenance. Besides, it was under false pretences.
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