The air was sharp and bracing, and the leaves which had taken their autumnal tints were falling from the trees. All was darkness, horror, confusion, ruin. " "Try the cellar, Captain," said Blueskin, stamping upon a large board in the ground. Fortescue had not much ability to keep her sister, and a little while after her mother’s death Ann Veronica met Gwen suddenly on the staircase coming from her father’s study, shockingly dingy in dusty mourning and tearful and resentful, and after that Gwen receded from the Morningside Park world, and not even the begging letters and distressful communications that her father and aunt received, but only a vague intimation of dreadfulness, a leakage of incidental comment, flashes of paternal anger at “that blackguard,” came to Ann Veronica’s ears. But women—women as a rule don’t throw themselves into things like that. She wondered even at this late day how she had been able to hold her maddening curiosity in check.
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