"When—and how?" asked he, eagerly.
"When I am ready, and how I can manage it most effectually."
"But your child?"
"My child goes with me."
"He will not allow it."
"I shall not ask him."
"Ah, then, it is a secret flight you meditate!—but with whom, Mrs. Huntingdon?"
"With my son—and, possibly, his nurse."
"Alone—and unprotected! But where can you go? what can you do? He will follow you and bring you back."
"I have laid my plans too well for that. Let me once get clear of Grass-dale, and I shall consider myself safe."
Mr. Hargrave advanced one step towards me, looked me in the face, and drew in his breath to speak; but that look, that heightened colour, that sudden sparkle of the eye made my blood rise in wrath: I abruptly turned away, and, snatching up my brush, began to dash away at
