Miss Tyrrell, also as usual, prepared for three hours of letter-writing.

Annabel, after a brief Consultation with Mrs.Martin, the housekeeper, would ordinarily have sat down to study in the morning room.

She laid open a book on the table, but then lingered between that and the windows.

At length she took a volume of a lighter kind--in both senses--and, finding her garden hat in the hall, went forth.
She was something less than twenty, and bore herself with grace perchance a little too sober for her years.

Her head was wont to droop thoughtfully, and her step measured itself to the grave music of a mind which knew the influence of mountain solitude.