"Brother," cried Lady Trafford, her eye blazing with unnatural light, and her cheek suffused with a crimson stain: "Brother," she cried, lifting her thin fingers towards Heaven, "as God shall judge me, I was wedded to that murdered man!" "A lie!" ejaculated Sir Rowland, furiously; "a black, and damning lie!" "It is the truth," replied his sister, falling backwards upon the couch. He had no use for Ann Veronica; he had never had a use for her since she had been too old to sit upon his knee. Kneebone, I came hither as your guest. I also have eyes, and I have seen the picture.
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