She was not afraid exactly, but there was that about her loneliness to-night she distrusted. “What do you mean?” she asked. I was sorry for what I did afterwards; for, I don't know why, but, poor, lady! with her pale face, and black eyes, she reminded me of my mother. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed. Ann Veronica brought her luggage in a cab from the hotel; she tipped the hotel porter sixpence and overpaid the cabman eighteenpence, unpacked some of her books and possessions, and so made the room a little homelike, and then sat down in a by no means uncomfortable arm-chair before the fire. .
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