I saw
such loveliness before me now.
From the luxurious depths of a crimson velvet fauteuil rose a lovely
woman, who advanced to meet me with outstretched hands. Her mourning
dress fell in graceful folds around her tall, queenly figure, and from
the same dark dress her fair face and golden head shone out bright and
luminous as a jewel from a dark background.
"Sir Edgar Trevelyan," she said, "allow me to welcome you home."
Her voice was sweet and rich; she had a pretty, piquant accent, and the
play of her lips as she spoke was simply perfection.
"It is very lonely for you," she said. "There is great gloom over the
house, it is all sad and dark; but the brightness will come back in
time."
I touched the white hand she held out to me; it was warm and soft; the
touch of those slender fingers had a magical effect.
"I must apologize for not having seen you before," I said, "but until
five minutes ago I did not know you were in the house."
"No," she replied, with a faint sigh, "I can believe that."
"You must know," I continued, "that I am a complete stranger to the
family. I never saw any of them in my life.
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