There was an old leather chair which she loved, which had always stood beside the glass doors that gave upon the sunset, in whose worn depths she had, as a child, told herself fairy tales, and found escape from childish woes.

She went straight to it now, sank into its old arms, and pressed her cheek against the cool leather.

She closed her eyes, and sat very still, and tried to ease the throbbing of her heart.

Some one coughed, and she looked up to find her Uncle Edward regarding her from his own favourite chair.
"I did not know you were there," she exclaimed.

"I thought the room was empty.