She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. Chapter XXII AN OLD FOOL Lady Ferringhall made room for him on the sofa by her side. “To your room!” Michelle cowered, her face flushed with anger. ” She pressed her ear to the door. Someone ought to be with him until the doctor arrives. He waved a hand toward the sea.
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