A Young Mutineer by L.T. Meade

I go like one in a dream, unbidden my feet know the way, To that garden where love stood in blossom with the red and white hawthorn of May. -- MATHILDE BLIND.

Aunt Marjorie had cried until she could cry no longer. Hers was a slighter nature than either Mr. Merton's or Hilda's. In consequence, perhaps, she was able to realize the blow which had come upon them more vividly and more quickly than either her brother or niece.