Let me tell you, in my turn, how I am placed.

Compose yourself--pray compose yourself! I have a smelling-bottle here at the service of the ladies.
Permit me to offer it." He brought me the smelling-bottle; he put a little stool under my feet; he entreated me to take time enough to compose myself.

"Infernal fool!" I heard him say to himself, as he considerately turned away from me for a few moments.

"If _I_ had been her husband, come what might of it, I would have told her the truth!" Was he referring to Eustace?
And was he going to do what he would have done in my husband's place ?--was he really going to tell me the truth?
The idea had barely crossed my mind when I was startled by a loud and peremptory knocking at the street door.

The Major stopped and listened attentively.