“Please, my lady, look,” eagerly, though with a fugitive action of terror, Lovedy cried, unpinning the thin coarse shawl on her neck, and revealing the terrible stripes and weals of recent beating, such as nearly sickened Lady Temple.

“Oh, Lovedy,” entreated Alice, “she’ll take the big stick.”

“She could not do her work,” interposed Mary with furtive eagerness, “she is so poorly, and Missus said she would have the twenty sprigs if she sat up all night.”

“Sprigs!”

“Yes, ma’am, we makes lace more than ever we did to home, day and night; and if we don’t she takes the stick.”

“Oh, Mary,” implored the child, “she said if you said one word.”

“Mary,” said Lady Temple, trembling all over, “where are your bonnets?”

“We haven’t none, ma’am,” returned Mary, “she pawned them.  But, oh, ma’am, please take us away.  We are used dreadful bad, and no one knows it.”

Lady Temple took Lovedy in one hand, and Mary in the other; then looked at the other little girl, who stood as if petrified.  She handed the pair to the astonished Coombe, bidding him put them into the carriage, and let Master Temple go outside, and then faced about to defend the rear, her rustling black silk and velvet filling up the passage, just as Alison and the matron were coming down stairs.

“Mrs. Rawlins,” she said, in her gentle dignity, “I think Lovedy is so poorly that she ought to go home to her aunt to be nursed, and I have taken little Mary that she may not be left behind alone.  Please to tell Mr. Mauleverer that I take it all upon myself.  The other little girl is not at all to blame, and I hope you will take care of her, for she looks very ill.”

So much for being a Governor’s widow!  A woman of thrice Fanny’s energy and capacity would not have effected her purpose so simply, and made the virago in the matron so entirely quail.  She swept forth with such a consciousness of power and ease that few could have had assurance enough to gainsay her, but no sooner was she in the carriage than she seized Mary’s hand, exclaiming, “My poor, poor little dear!  Francis, dear boy, the wicked people have been beating her!  Oh, Miss Williams, look at her poor neck!”

Alison lifting Lovedy on her knee, glanced under the shawl, and saw indeed a sad spectacle, and she felt such a sharpness of bone as proved that there was far from being the proper amount of clothing or of flesh to protect them.  Lady Temple looked at Mary’s attenuated hand, and fairly sobbed, “Oh, you have been cruelly treated!”

“Please don’t let her get us,” cried the frightened Mary.

“Never, never, my dear.  We are taking you home to your mother.”