Her head dipped deeply into the current, and she narrowly escaped being swamped. It is not, my dear Veronica, that I think there is any harm in you; there is not. Her slender throat was encircled by a black riband, with a small locket attached to it; and upon the top of her head rested a diminutive lace cap. Lucy looked at her reflection with a measure of awe. We’re hard stuff!” Then she went on: “To think that is my father! Oh, my dear! He stood over me like a cliff; the thought of him nearly turned me aside from everything we have done.
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