Knowing Diane’s feelings towards her family, Lucy was inwardly shocked when Diane invited her to stay. “Do you know him?” Lucy replied, “No, I haven’t met him. How Jack Sheppard attended his Mother's Funeral. But I've not promised to stand by him yet; nor will I, unless he turns out an honest lad,—mind that. Of this boy she had only caught a glimpse;—but that glimpse was sufficient to satisfy her it was her son,—and, if she could have questioned her own instinctive love, she could not question her antipathy, when she beheld, partly concealed by a pillar immediately in the rear of the woollen-draper, the dark figure and truculent features of Jonathan Wild. Here was an appalling fact: all her previous loneliness had been trifling beside that which now encompassed her and would for years to come.
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