These two elderly ladies would call her stark mad. Instead of English villas and cottages there were chalets and Italian-built houses shining white; there were lakes of emerald and sapphire and clustering castles, and such sweeps of hill and mountain, such shining uplands of snow, as she had never seen before. Annabel shook her head. Never! Perhaps some day, quite soon, she might regret that breakfast-room. This light did not remain stationary, but could be seen at one moment glimmering through the rents in the roof, and at another shining through the cracks in the wall, or the broken panes of the casement. There was another little thing he had to say. Mr. “You are neither of you in the least like the ordinary boarding-house young man.
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