She hushed, and sat down in her splint-bottomed rocking-chair, which snapped when she rocked, and which seemed to speak for her after she had shut her mouth.

Her face settled into a martyr-like appeal to Heaven in proof of the justice of her cause.

And then she fell back on her forlorn hope.

She wept hysterically, in sincere self-pity, to think that an affectionate mother should have such a daughter! Julia, finding that her mother had desisted, went to her room.

She did not exactly pray, but she talked to herself as she paced the floor.