Ann Veronica was one of the few young people—and one must have young people just as one must have flowers—one could ask to a little gathering without the risk of a painful discord. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. So Ann Veronica also was arrested. But on arriving in the tattered saloon where he and Melusine had hidden, a shock awaited Gerald. The spinsters—who on the morrow would vanish out of the girl's life for ever—had already left their imprint upon her imagination.
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