His pride, however, would not suffer him to interfere with their proceedings; much less could he bring himself to acknowledge that he had been in the wrong, and entreat Lady Trafford to remain, though he was well aware that her life might be endangered if she travelled by night. If the young ladies were dowerless, which seemed likely, their attire at least—so Lucilla assured him in a whisper—was of the first stare. “All of which doesn’t help me in the slightest degree to pay back that money. She raised this with the air of a conspirator unmasking, and displayed a tear-flushed face. —Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. . He hung precariously on the ragged edge, but he hung there.
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