But his daughter might well have a claim. The summons was instantly answered by a shop-boy. A very familiar face emerged from a crowd at the impromptu bar on the kitchen island. "His life—or yours?" "No one shall harm you more, my dear," cried Lady Trafford. Still, one never could tell. ‘Well, sir, if I’ve to choose betwixt him and you, I’ll take you, no question. He beamed as she whispered to 22 him that she had seen a table so fine or tasted such wonders. Neither did his interest,—which was by no means inconsiderable,—nor his general popularity, procure him the preferment he desired. Poor thing! how beautiful she looks! but how like death!" Deathlike, indeed, was the repose of the sleeper,—deathlike and deep.
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