She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. It is not you who runs the risk of going dinnerless to-morrow. " "As for that, I don't say. He’s a catch, Lucy. Lucia confined herself to her quarters, wondering when they would flee to the country as so many other houses had done. Her usual dignified reserve had availed her nothing.
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