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312 but you did not hear, Mrs. Garden,” she said. “Lunch is nearly ready. Jane, Florimel, there is the strangest person waiting to see you. She came some twenty minutes ago, but would not let me disturb you. She would not give her name. She said she wanted to see one of the Garden girls, ‘the one with red hair,’ she said, or a younger one with black hair, but the red-haired one she would rather see. She is fearfully frowsy; light hair, I truly think it is bleached, but maybe not. She is in mourning, yet she has on a good deal of queer jewellery and a white voile waist, all covered with coarse machine embroidery. She is a queer person, Jane, altogether. What can she want of you?”

“I’ve no idea, Anne; can’t imagine who she is,” Jane began, but Florimel said:

“I can! It’s Miss Alyssa Aldine, and somebody’s died.”

“Oh, Florimel!” Jane remonstrated. She did not like to remember that she had sought Miss Aldine—Mrs. Peter Mivle—to ask advice as to her career. Nevertheless, Jane hastened to the library, not waiting to alter her costume, instantly sure that Florimel was right, and that it was Miss Aldine whom she should find waiting for her.