13/45 In her heart of hearts she felt perfectly certain that George never would send. She rose and put down her needlework. I'll ask the woman in the office if she knows anything about lodgings.' Nelly went back to her post by the window. Her mind was bruised between two conflicting feelings--a dumb longing for someone to caress and comfort her, someone who would meet her pain with a bearing less hard and wooden than Bridget's--and at the same time, a passionate shrinking from the bare idea of comfort and sympathy, as something not to be endured. She had had a kind letter from Sir William Farrell that morning. |