" At the sound of his voice every vestige of colour fled from Winifred's cheeks, and the work upon which she was engaged fell from her hand. The flowers and turf, a wild strawberry, a rare butterfly, and suchlike little intimate things had become more interesting than mountains. A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. It is impossible. I am Lucilla Froxfield, you must know. ‘Melusine. Wood carved the ducks; Mr. ’ The shift threw Melusine’s attention off the errant major for the moment.
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