"
Lydia hastily stepped down from the ladder, and recoiled until she
reached a chair, where she sat and read and reread these lines. The
failing light roused her to action. She replaced the book on the
shelf, and said, as she went to the writing-table, "If such a doubt
as that haunted my father it will haunt me, unless I settle what is
to be my heart's business now and forever. If it be possible for a
child of mine to escape this curse of autovivisection, it must
inherit its immunity from its father, and not from me--from the man
of emotion who never thinks, and not from the woman of
introspection, who cannot help thinking. Be it so."
CHAPTER XIV
Before many days had elapsed a letter came for Cashel as he sat
taking tea with the Skene family. When he saw the handwriting, a
deep red color mounted to his temples.
"Oh, Lor'!" said Miss Skene, who sat next him. "Let's read it."
"Go to the dickens," cried Cashel, hastily baffling her as she
snatched at it.
"Don't worrit him, Fan," said Mrs. Skene, tenderly.
"Not for the world, poor dear," said Miss Skene, putting her hand
affectionately on his shoulder. "Let me just peep at the name--to
see who it's from. Do, Cashel, DEAR.
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