He leaned back in a low chair, and watched her graceful movements, the play of her white hands as she bent over some wonderful machine. But there must be an Englishman who would like to marry her to get Remenham House. ‘How do you do, my lord? I am Lucilla Froxfield. How could she tell him of the evil that drew her and drew her, as a needle to the magnet?—the fascinating evil that even now, escaped as it was, went on distilling its poison in her mind? "Yes, yes!" said the doctor. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him. Mr. He was not quite sure whether, after all, he had been wise.
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