Gerald instantly took her arm and guided her back to her chair. ‘Hilary was right. “No,” she said, under her breath, “you can’t face it. His features were regular, and finely-formed; his complexion bright and blooming,—a little shaded, however, by travel and exposure to the sun; and, with a praiseworthy contempt for the universal and preposterous fashion then prevailing, of substituting a peruke for the natural covering of the head, he allowed his own dark-brown hair to fall over his shoulders in ringlets as luxuriant as those that distinguished the court gallant in Charles the Second's days—a fashion, which we do not despair of seeing revived in our own days. With the immediate necessities in train, Melusine fell to brooding on her situation, which she found insupportable. “Lucy, do you forgive me?” She looked at him in earnest.
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