She went up-stairs and hesitated between four doors with ground-glass panes, each of which professed “The Women’s Bond of Freedom” in neat black letters. . 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. But at the beginning of the affray, when he thought every one was too much occupied with his own concerns to remark his absence, he slipped out of the room, not for the purpose of avoiding the engagement (for cowardice was not one of his failings), but because he had another object in view. She came along with the fluttering assurance of some tall ship. She would be healthy, too, and vigorous. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent.
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