"I don't know," she answered vaguely. So am I. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. “Veronica!” cried Miss Stanley, warningly, and, “Peter!” For a moment they seemed on the verge of an altogether desperate scuffle. "Added to which, she is neither so young as she was, nor, is her temper by any means improved—hem!" "Say no more on the subject, Sir," observed the stranger, gravely; "but let us turn to a more agreeable one—her daughter. Distress like hers might palliate far greater offences than she ever committed. It was equally as beautiful but not quite so fine as the daughter's. I can’t imagine what possessed you, Veronica.
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