When Jack entered the cell, she was talking to herself in the muttering unconnected way peculiar to her distracted condition; but, after her eye had rested on him some time, the fixed expression of her features relaxed, and a smile crossed them. Decidedly this was imbecile. The nuns had no regard for the sensibilities of a “lady” and expected Melusine— for it was her allotted task—to clean and tend the soldier’s wounds even when they festered. ‘Monsieur Charvill thought perhaps that his daughter would find not a welcome. “You have changed somehow—and you certainly are less friendly.
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