Perhaps Juliana was the wretchedest creature present.

She was about to smite on both cheeks him she loved, as well as the woman she despised and had been foiled by.

Still she had the consolation that Rose, seeing the vulgar mother, might turn from Evan: a poor distant hope, meagre and shapeless like herself.

Her most anxious thoughts concerned the means of getting money to lockup Harry's tongue.

She could bear to meet the Countess's wrath, but not Evan's offended look.