"Old
Hugh did not last long! They must have had their first skirmish.
If he is a coward at heart, she will rule him with a rod of iron.
What is her hold over him? I warrant that the jade will never tell
me. She will fight him to the death in silence, and try to hoodwink
me. We will see, my lady! We will see!"
"Now, Justine," softly said the renegade, "tell me all of the story
of this strange father and daughter! Ram Lal has reconnoitered! We
are safe! Both Hugh and his daughter are at home!"
The reassured governess frankly opened her heart to her wary listener.
It was an hour before the recital was finished, and Miss Justine
was gayly chatting over the impromptu breakfast, when the details
of these last stormy days at Delhi were described. "I cannot make
it all out. She is certainly his legitimate daughter. He is crafty,
covetous, miserly, and yet he lives in a scornful splendor here.
Both my sister and myself look forward to learning the whole story
through my visit here. Of course, on our arrival, Nadine and myself
wondered not at the gloomy solitude of the marble house. But the
affronts to society, the practical imprisonment of this girl, this
chilling silence as to her mother, have roused her brave young
heart. Not a picture, not a single memento, not even a jewel, not
a tress of hair, not even a passing mention of where that shadowy
mother lies buried!" the Swiss woman sighed.
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