A fine, stiff, rustling silk it was, and over it shone Ursula's crimson cheeks and gleaming eyes, and masses of nut brown hair.
"As she turned from the glass she heard her father's voice below, loud and angry.

Growing very pale, she ran out into the hall.

Her father was already half way upstairs, his face red with fury.

In the hall below Ursula saw her step-mother, looking troubled and vexed.

At the door stood Malcolm Ramsay, a homely neighbour youth who had been courting Ursula in his clumsy way ever since she grew up.