“Quite unusually cold for the time of year,” he said. In the early hours of the morning, unable to bear the suspense any longer, Melusine had ventured to explore the mansion, the lantern she had brought in hand, commenting to herself all the time on the state of the place and the difficulties of her task, and having no idea of the consequences she was bringing on herself thereby. Her mouth dry, she made her feet walk on, not daring to utter a word. My poor son despairs of me, for I have primed every member of the family to bring me the latest novels whenever they choose to visit. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls.
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