I will not be persecuted in this way by you. And I want you for myself—for my wife. She was wearing a becoming tea-gown, and it was quite certain that Sir John would not be home for several hours at least. Man's fate is in his own hands. The postilion obeyed, and dashed off as hard as his horses could gallop along the beautiful road leading to Neasdon and Willesden, just as the serving-men made their appearance. She had been obliged to wait all morning for the opportunity to talk to Martha, who chose always to retire to her cell for the period of recreation that preceded afternoon prayers. Steeples toppled, and towers reeled beneath its fury.
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