Oh, was he her own, when she could not tell whether those great soft,
dark-grey eyes that looked so kindly on her had descended to the young
baronet? She hoped not, for Harriet and she had often agreed that
they presaged the fate of that gallant youth, who had been killed by
Sir Bevil Grenville's side. He must have looked just as Sir Amyas
did, lying senseless after the hurt she had caused.
No more definite nor useful thought passed through the brain of the
overwearied maiden as she rest on the couch, how long she knew not;
but it was growing dark by the time Madge returned with a guttering
candle, a cracked plate and wedge of greasy-looking pie, a piece of
dry bread, a pewter cup of small beer, and an impaired repulsive
steel knife with a rounded end, and fork with broken prong. The fact
of this being steel was not distressing to one who had never seen a
silver fork, but the condition of both made her shudder, and added to
the sick sense of exhaustion that destroyed her appetite. She took
a little of the bread, and, being parched with thirst, drank some of
the beer before Madge came back again. "Oh ho, you're nice I see,
my fine Dame Really!"
"Thank you, indeed I can't eat, I am so much tired," said Aurelia
apologetically.
"You'll have to put up with what serves your betters, I can tell you,"
was all the reply she received.
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