“Idiot!” She raged inwardly while she walked along with that air of self-contained serenity that is proper to a young lady of nearly two-and-twenty under the eye of the world. She had been obliged to spend the night in that fateful bedchamber, the faithful Kimble—who had foraged at a nearby inn, bringing back a large pie and a jug of porter for his mistress—guarding the door outside. It is her duty to tell me, and I would not have her think that I had been trying to work upon your sympathies to learn her secrets. \"Why not?\" Cathy continued, \"Shari is allowed to date, Lucy, and so are you. He suggested they take the remains of the household to his country estate, where he could at least hunt through the winter to provide them venison and grouse. I’d only get a pack of lies in reply.
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