’ Chapter Ten ‘I am come on a mission of some delicacy, ma’am,’ Gerald said calmly to the old lady. For the first time he seemed to wonder what it might be that she had to confess. She drifted northward from the Strand, and came on some queer and dingy quarters. "Release him first—and I will disclose it!" cried Lady Trafford; "on my soul, I will!" "Speak then!" returned Rowland. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart.
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