"Aw Come. " "Ah!" shrieked Lady Trafford. ” And she pressed her lips together in white resolution and nodded, and she was manifestly full of that same passion for conflict and selfsacrifice that has given the world martyrs since the beginning of things. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat. It was an impulse. You see, aunt, it’s the only possible way for me to get a good degree in my subjects, and father won’t hear of it.
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