( 136 )
CHAPTER VII.
THE DEBT REPAID.
She rose early, in the murky cold of the winter morning. When, at eight o’clock, she knocked as usual at her grandfather’s door his answer made her tremble.
“I shall be down in a few minutes, Jane I’ll have breakfast with you.”
It was long since he had risen at this hour. His voice sounded less like that of an old man, and, in spite of his calling her by her name, she felt the tone to be severe. When he reached the parlour he did not offer to take her hand, and she feared to approach him. She saw that his features bore the mark of sleeplessness. Hers, poor girl! were yet more woeful in their pallor. Through the meal he affected to occupy himself with the book Miss Lant had sent,—
