“Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. ” “No, don’t say that. Melusine came back to the present to discover that tears were rolling down her cheeks. But I have remembered the horse and have asked this sergeant that a soldier fetch him. Of course I knew all about him years ago, and he is exactly like everybody’s description of him. The Night-Cellar. ” She replied, smiling awkwardly.
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