Mr.
Strafford would know him most like." There was nothing further to be asked, and Margery went out of the room, seeing no more than the natural horror on those two white faces of mother and daughter, which dreaded to meet and read the thought, in each other's eyes.
It was for this, then, that they had delayed their journey.

Neither doubted for a moment the guilt of the wretched creature who was the haunting terror and misery of their lives; and it was not strange that, overwhelmed with the stronger and more personal interest, they should forget to wonder or lament over the dead, cut down in the very beginning of life, or to think of the desolate and widowed bride meeting her first grief in the unnatural guise of murder.
Mrs.Costello came back to her chair by the fireside.

She could no longer take her fears and anxieties into the solitude of her own room, and hide them there.

There was both pain and comfort in knowing that Lucia now shared with her every additional weight--even this last, which she scarcely yet comprehended.

But it was some time before either spoke.
Each was trying to gauge the new depth which seemed to have opened under their feet--the wife and daughter of a murderer! The old ignominy, the old degradation, had been all but intolerable.