Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. His eyes were bright, and his voice had in it an unaccustomed timbre. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. "I'll tell you why," he said. She had reason enough to be grateful to Prudence Sindlesham and it was not fair that this horrible feeling of loneliness should be made known to her. The palanquin is hired and so is the procession.
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