a woman of our class in the present condition of our country is a lease of woe," he added shaking his head, "slaves, and the slaves of slaves! Even woman's spirit cannot stand against it; and it can bear against more than we can, master."
"Your daughter is not made for the common cares of life," said Egremont.
"Well not talk of them," said Gerard. "Sybil has an English heart, and that's not easily broken. And you, comrade, you are a traveller in these parts, eh?"
"A kind of traveller; something in the way of your friend Morley—connected with the press."
"Indeed! a reporter, eh? I thought you had something about you a little more knowing than we provincials."
"Yes; a reporter; they want information in London as to the real state of the country, and this time of the year, Parliament not sitting—"
"Ah; I understand, a flying commission and a summer tour. Well, I often wish I were a penman; but I never could do it. I'll
