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You shall hear from me to-morrow. “You see, Vee,” said Mrs. The raising of twenty-five pounds was a task altogether beyond her powers. Looking for something, or someone, probably. They were enormously pleased with one another; they found each other beyond measure better than they had expected, if only because of the want of substance in mere expectation. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. Miss Stanley had determined from the outset to have the warmest affection for her youngest niece and to be a second mother in her life—a second and a better one; but she had found much to battle with, and there was much in herself that Ann Veronica failed to understand. “Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate.
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