and relates the returning of his Grace of Osmonde from France There were in this strange nature, depths so awful and profound that it was not to be sounded or to be judged as others were.

But one thing could have melted or caused the unconquerable spirit to bend, and this was the overwhelming passion of love--not a slight, tender feeling, but a great and powerful one, such as could be awakened but by a being of as strong and deep a nature as itself, one who was in all things its peer.
"I have been lonely--lonely all my life," my Lady Dunstanwolde had once said to her sister, and she had indeed spoken a truth.
Even in her childhood she had felt in some strange way she stood apart from the world about her.

Before she had been old enough to reason she had been conscious that she was stronger and had greater power and endurance than any human being about her.

Her strength she used in these days in wilful tyranny, and indeed it was so used for many a day when she was older.

The time had never been when an eye lighted on her with indifference, or when she could not rule and punish as she willed.