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’ She looked up again and smiled sweetly. Is all that folly done with—for ever?” Annabel shivered ever so slightly. “Do all foster kids have the instinct?” Michelle asked naively. Niece and aunt regarded each other for a moment over their pockethandkerchiefs with watery but antagonistic eyes, each far too profoundly moved to see the absurdity of the position. Standing before a mirror set on a dresser between the windows, two hands frozen in the act of adjusting a wide-brimmed hat on her head, stood a lady in a dark riding habit, her startled features turned towards the door. “Father,” she cried, “I have to live!” He misunderstood her. Not far from the entrance, on the left, was a sort of screen, or partition-wall, reaching from the floor to the ceiling, formed of thick oaken planks riveted together by iron bolts, and studded with broad-headed nails. She plucked at the knots of her racket and heard him to the end, then spoke in a restrained undertone.
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