“Have you dropped from the skies?” Sydney asked wonderingly. "Sir Rowland is your uncle—he will be your guardian—he will protect you. ‘When I thought to make them sympathique for me, with a little tear, you understand, and some tricks feminine of this kind—’ ‘Feminine tricks, too?’ cut in Gerald admiringly, controlling a quivering lip. "She may yet be saved. She was certain he would hear, sleeping in the nearby castle. You fell in at once with her quixotic and damnable scheme of foisting her reputation and her follies upon your shoulders whilst she marries a rich man and commences all over again a life of selfish pleasure.
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