"My turn will come." Julian advanced toward her, as if to offer her his arm, and checked himself.

Firmly persuaded as he was that her mind was deranged--readily as he admitted that she claimed, in virtue of her affliction, every indulgence that he could extend to her--there was something repellent to him at that moment in the bare idea of touching her.

The image of the beautiful creature who was the object of her monstrous accusation--the image of Mercy as she lay helpless for a moment in his arms--was vivid in his mind while he opened the door that led into the hall, and drew back to let Grace pass out before him.

He left the servant to help her into the cab.

The man respectfully addressed him as he took his seat opposite to Grace.
"I am ordered to say that your room is ready, sir, and that her ladyship expects you to dinner." Absorbed in the events which had followed his aunt's invitation, Julian had forgotten his engagement to stay at Mablethorpe House.