“I’ll bring it to-morrow. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. "I never stand upon ceremony where I know I shall be welcome. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. "From Lady Trafford's, where I took the box.
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