"Trenchard," he muttered; "Aliva Trenchard—they were right, then, as to the name. Miss Stanley walked round the garden thinking, and presently house and garden reverberated to Ann Veronica’s slamming of the front door. She began to draw on her gloves thoughtfully. It was not until the morning of the fifth day that the constant vigil was broken. " "Or the flat stones in the meadows, teeming with life underneath. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart. The Procession to Tyburn 462 XXXII.
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