Spurling bit her lips to conceal her mirth. "First take the child," cried Darrell, holding up the infant, and clinging to the oar with a dying effort. Her loneliness was consuming, Lucia. Stanley pronounced, and seemed to hesitate whether he had not gone too far. "By Heaven!" cried Darrell, "it is the poor fellow whom I placed in such jeopardy a short time ago. No, don’t let me call myself that. You deal with her. Norris entered the room, followed by Father Spencer. She was sore and overstrung, and it was intolerable to her that he should stand within three yards of her unsuspectingly, with an incalculably vast power over her happiness. Her state of mind would have seemed altogether discreditable to her grandmother. Let this be a caution to you in future—with whom, and about what you deal. Burn your palette and your easel. Down under the incalculable selfishness of the penitent child there was the man's uneasy recollection of Judas. It isn’t all.
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