much pleasantness and as much comfort—and I think I have a right to add, to both of you, of as much faith in me—as possible."
Oh, he was princely indeed! that came out more and more with every word he said and with the particular way he said it, and Maisie could feel his monitress stiffen almost with anguish against the increase of his spell and then hurl herself, as a desperate defence from it, into the almost admitted inferiority of violence, of iteration. "You're afraid of her—afraid, afraid, afraid! Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear!" Mrs. Wix wailed it with a high quaver, then broke down into a long shudder of helplessness and woe. The next minute she had flung herself again on the hard sofa and had burst into a passion of tears.
Sir Claude stood and looked at her a moment; he shook his head slowly and almost tenderly. "I 've already admitted it—I 'm in mortal terror, and we 'll let that settle the question. I think you had best go to bed," he added; "you've had a tremendous day and you must both be tired to death. I shall not expect you to concern yourselves in the morning with my movements. There 's an early boat on; I shall have cleared out
