He turned, and beheld Winifred. There was the stile on which Jonathan had sat, and he recollected distinctly the effect of his mocking glance— how it had hardened his heart against his mother's prayer. The young rascal had learnt from some of the women-servants that Lady Trafford was from home, and was in the very act of making off when I got down stairs. She could see that he was curious, so she sat upon him and they rocked back and forth. "She has fallen into the villain's hands. Pull over there.
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