“My dear,” the letter ran, “I have to tell you that your sister Gwen has offended your father very much. A lucky escape. . She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. I do not admit the truth of a word which you have said. The miserable woman staggered, uttered a deep groan, and fell senseless on the straw. Fritz sang for her sometimes, for Fritz could sing even before he was able to form words. And she had not dressed herself in this habit of a blue so much like the sky just for his sake, no matter that Lucy had said how much this colour suited with her eyes.
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