Honoria had come to a standstill, with rigid eyes.

They were fastened on the bed.
Then Lizzie understood.
She had covered the child's legs from sight; but not his back--nor the brown mole on it--the large brown mole, ringed like Saturn, set obliquely between the shoulder-blades.
She rose from the bed slowly.

Honoria turned on little George with a gesture as if to fling off his velvet jacket.

But Lizzie stamped her foot.
"No," she commanded hoarsely; "let be.

Mine is a cripple." "So it is true.