But she was a warrior's daughter, and observed: 'My husband, her brother, will be back before the month ends.' 'No need for hostilities to lighten our darkness,' Lady Arpington rejoined.

'You know her?
trust her ?' 'One cannot doubt her face.

She is my husband's sister.

Yes, I do trust her.

I nail my flag to her cause.' The flag was crimson, as it appeared on her cheeks; and that intimated a further tale, though not of so dramatic an import as the cognizant short survey of Carinthia had been.
These young women, with the new complications obtruded by them, irritated a benevolent great governing lady, who had married off her daughters and embraced her grandchildren, comfortably finishing that chapter; and beheld now the apparition of the sex's ancient tripping foe, when circumstances in themselves were quite enough to contend against on their behalf.