” He too rose. But I'll tell e'e what we might do——" The young man heard no more. Activity in the hall intensified. A moistened velvet touch found her tongue. She wasn’t well-liked really, I think people were jealous of her. . She would never look squarely at these dream forms that mocked the social order in which she lived, never admit she listened to the soft whisperings in her ear. 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. He looked at her for a moment in a puzzled sort of way.
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