A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. I don’t know that I understand altogether. “Were you ever in love, aunt?” she asked. . Mr. Afterwards we started for a motor ride to a place outside Paris for déjeuner, and I suppose the man’s nerve failed him. She let out a delighted laugh.
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