ABSTRACT
The letters from her father, Lady Avondale refused to read. Many remonstrances passed between herself and the duke’s servant. The result was a slow journey in the dark night, over a part of the country which was said to be infested by the marauders. No terror alarmed Lady Avondale, save that of losing a last, an only opportunity of once more seeing her husband – of throwing herself upon his mercy – of imploring him to return to his family, even though she were exiled from it. ‘Yet, I will not kneel to him, or ask it. If when he sees me, he has the heart to refuse me,’ she cried, ‘I will only shew him my child; and if he can look upon it, and kill its mother, let him do it. I think in that / case – yes, I do feel certain that I can encounter death, without a fear, or a murmur.
