On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart. Not if I read her aright. Something changed for her. "And the Marchioness is your daughter," added Thames. "Of yourself," he replied, in a mournful tone. There are times when you make me feel a little thing at your feet—a young, silly, protected thing. I proceeded to Manchester, to investigate the matter further, and when there ascertained, beyond a doubt, that you were the eldest daughter of Sir Montacute Trenchard.
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