"Ah! you are there, my dear young lady," said the widow, smiling faintly; "when I first waken, I'm always in dread of finding myself again in that horrible asylum. "The lash cuts to the bone. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. ‘Is it worth it?’ he asked at last. Spurling; Austin had never quitted his post. Her aunt went out of the room with dignity and a rustle, and up-stairs to the fastness of her own room.
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