She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin. Then she took her sister’s hand. ‘Now then, missie, where do you think you’re going?’ ‘I must see Jacques only for one little minute,’ Melusine told him prettily, fluttering her lashes. Thought she was a nun at first. ” “Well, you can’t say you’re a failure there,” Lady Lescelles remarked, smiling. ‘Oh, dearie me, you make me feel a traitor. \" Lucy replied, truly amazed. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees.
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