When she finally did take her own lover, it was not with a member of the household staff. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. "His disguise was capital; but I detected it in a moment. Wait a moment. It was a pity he didn't break his neck, for he was hanged within the year. James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. Oh, and only look at those stains,’ cried Miss Froxfield, gesturing at the blood on the ruffles to the sleeves of Melusine’s riding-habit, and on the chemise she wore under it. One never knew when it would be necessary to resume her disguise. The poor things! Oh, it was quite dreadful.
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