From the cemetery I went immediately to my house. The day was a dreary one, and I felt, chilled. The gray of the sky was in my spirit, and every thing seemed unreal and dark and strange. I was in a mood, I suppose, and, unlike myself on other similar occasions, did not feel that drawing towards the one dear heart which hitherto had afforded me solace and support. I had not got used to my new self as yet, and till I did, the smile of her I loved was more of a reproach to me than consolation.
I was stopped at the gate by Mrs. Banks. She is my next-door neighbor, and in the absence of my landlady who had gone to visit some friends, took charge of any message which might be left for me while I was out. She looked flurried and mysterious.
"You have had a visitor," she announced.
As she paused and looked as if she expected to be questioned, I naturally asked who it was.
"She said she was your sister," she declared. "A tall woman with a thick veil over her face. She went right up to your study, but I think she must have got tired of waiting, for she went away again a few moments ago."
My sister! I had no sister. I looked at Mrs. Banks in amazement
"Describe her more particularly," said I.
"That I cannot do," she returned. "Her veil hid her features too completely for me to see them. I could not even tell her age, but I should say, from the way she walked that she was older than you."
A chill, which did not come entirely from the east wind then blowing, ran sharply through my veins.
"I thank you," said I, somewhat incoherently, and ran hastily upstairs.
I had a presentiment as to the identity of this woman.