" "Blessings upon him!" cried Lady Trafford, fervently. By this time, several of the terrified domestics appeared with lights. . She turned to Lucilla, a plea in her face. The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. The other lay unconscious in a heap. ” She played with her hair. The militia were in already. " At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand.
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