Anyway,IwasgladIwasnotdead,fornowthatallwasoverI
trembledandfeltafraid,whichIhadneverdoneduringthefighting,evenwhenmyhourseemedverynear。
Lastlytherewasthishigh—bornlady,BlancheAleys,withwhomfortunehadthrownmesostrangelythatday。Thoseblueeyesofhershadpiercedmyheartlikedarts,anddowhatIwouldImightnotridmymindofthethoughtofher,ormyearsofthesoundofhersoftvoice,whileherkissesseemedstilltoburnuponmylips。ItwrungmetothinkthatperhapsIshouldneverseeheragain,orthatifIdidI
mightnotspeakwithher,beingsofarbeneathherincondition,andhavingalreadyearnedthewrathofherfather,and,asIguessed,thejealousyofthatscentedcousinofherswhomtheysaidtheKinglovedlikeabrother。
Whathadmymothertoldme？ToleavethisplaceandgotoLondon,theretofindmyuncle,JohnGrimmer,goldsmithandmerchant,whowasmygodfather,andtoaskhimtotakemeintohisbusiness。I