Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. He stopped in mid-sentence, and Ann Veronica opened the door for her aunt. What the devil is her name, now we know she isn’t you?’ ‘Yolande,’ supplied Melusine. Rain changed to hail, then 154 sleet, then snow. Please sit down, Miss —dear me, I haven’t asked you your name yet. She was a lovely girl, attired in deep mourning, and having an expression of profound sorrow on her charming features.
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