This one was Henry Esmond, that one the melancholy Marius, and so forth and so on; never any villains. Then came the cable that you were in Canton, ill, but not dangerously so. “By-the-bye,” he said, presently, “your sister was married to old Ferringhall the other day, wasn’t she? I saw the notice in the papers. Wood, you shan't lord it over me, I can promise you. ’ Melusine shrugged. Marry, come up! I'm not so easily deluded. Every rule is against me—Why did I let you begin this? I might have told—” “I don’t see that you could help—” “I might have helped—” “You couldn’t.
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