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Carried along the current of her own impetuous thoughts, Mary had talked
very fast, and had not once looked at her grandmother while she was
speaking. But now at the end of her speech her eyes sought Lady
Maulevrier's face in gentle entreaty, and she recoiled involuntarily at
the sight she saw there.
The classic features were distorted almost as they had been in the worst
period of the paralytic seizure. Lady Maulevrier was ghastly pale, and
her eyes glared with an awful fire as they gazed at Mary. Her whole
frame was convulsed, and she, the cripple, whose right limbs lay numbed
and motionless upon the couch, made a struggling motion as she raised
herself a little with the left arm, as if, by very force of angry will,
she would have lifted herself up erect before the girl who had offended
her.
For a few moments her lips moved dumbly; and there was something
unspeakably awful in those convulsed features, that livid countenance,
and those voiceless syllables trembling upon the white dry lips.
At last speech came.
'Girl, you were created to torment me;' she exclaimed.


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