Lady Whitburn was surprised,
but was too proud to show herself gratified by what she thought was
the due of the dignity of the Dacres. An old woman in a hood sat by
the bed, where there was a heap of clothes, and a dark-haired little
girl stood by the window, whence she had been describing the arrivals
in the Castle court.
"Here is your mother, my poor child," began the Lady of Salisbury,
but there was no token of joy. Grisell gave a little gasp, and tried
to say "Lady Mother, pardon--" but the Lady of Whitburn, at sight of
the reddened half of the face which alone was as yet visible, gave a
cry, "She will be a fright! You evil little baggage, thus to get
yourself scarred and made hideous! Running where you ought not, I
warrant!" and she put out her hand as if to shake the patient, but
the Countess interposed, and her niece Margaret gave a little cry.
"Grisell is still very weak and feeble! She cannot bear much; we
have only just by Heaven's grace brought her round."
"As well she were dead as like this," cried this untender parent.
"Who is to find her a husband now? and as to a nunnery, where is one
to take her without a dower such as is hard to find, with two sons to
be fitly provided? I looked that in a household like this, better
rule should be kept."
"None can mourn it more than myself and the Earl," said the gentle
Countess; "but young folks can scarce be watched hour by hour.
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