She never expected to get her ladyship home alive. "Come to me!" cried the poor maniac, who had crawled as far as the chain would permit her,—"come to me!" she cried, extending her thin arm towards him. “If I am,” he answered, reddening, “you can scarcely assert that it is without a cause. And Blueskin, who, for a moment, had looked round distrustfully, concluding it was a feint, now laughed louder than ever. Her aunt had a once exasperating habit of interrupting her work with demands for small household services, but now Ann Veronica rendered them with a queer readiness of anticipatory propitiation.
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