"By the avenger of his family's dishonour—by your brother," he replied, coolly. ‘You seem to understand the gentry very well. " The spinster had no retort to offer such directness. Mr. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. Anna herself opened the hall door. Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and it might soften the bitterness, of the return to consciousness if he found a woman at his bedside.
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