"Your ladyship has never been well since you married Sir Cecil," rejoined Mrs. “I don’t want children, Lucy. ’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please. Go to it; and the best of luck!" He went out. I've engaged to watch over you as a son, and I will do so as far as I'm able; but if you neglect my advice, what chance have I of benefitting you? On one point I've made up my mind—you shall either obey me, or leave me. Sorry to be so nosy. Your life is like a funeral March.
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