At this moment, a door was opened below; lights gleamed on the walls; and the figures of Rowland and Sir Cecil were distinguished at the foot of the stairs. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. Miss Stanley had determined from the outset to have the warmest affection for her youngest niece and to be a second mother in her life—a second and a better one; but she had found much to battle with, and there was much in herself that Ann Veronica failed to understand. Melusine tilted her head to catch sight of her neck, and froze, staring at the image. Stanley, produced a portrait from its hiding-place in the jewel-drawer under the mirror. . ’ Which effectually silenced her. " Then he became merciful. She found herself struggling with a storm of tears.
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