Sheila grabbed the gun and laughed hysterically, brandishing the weapon and baying like a bear. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it. This done, Edgeworth Bess, who watched her opportunity, slipped out of the Lodge. "Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. This smile warned the doctor not to underestimate the man. Was she a fool to wish a person of a disposition altogether not pleasing to marry her? Was it not true that he made a game with her very often? Had he not been extremely interfering from the beginning? And had he not kissed her, just when— Her thoughts skidded to a stop.
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