At length, about an hour before dawn on the second day—Sunday—having spent the early part of the night in watching at the gates of the robbers' sanctuary, and being almost exhausted from want of rest, she set out homewards. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. "But she is a dear," said Angelina, timidly. "Our worthy friend was going to observe, Ma'am, that we never fail in our devotion to the fair sex," said Mr. Even the most sullen and withdrawn were sensitive to the penetrating nastiness of the fog. She did not have the power of men. The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere.
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