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MRS. WYVERNE waited in the front sitting-room of Burn Cottage, looking out upon the stream, the murmur of which came pleasantly to her ears. She always took care to be ready some time before she had to start on any expedition, having reached an age when haste and flurry are undesirable.
She was stout and heavy in figure, but she held herself with dignity, and there was a Quaker-like serenity about her handsome old face. Her dress was of black silk, good as to material, plain in make, and her bonnet was a copy of the Quaker type. In earlier years she had been drawn to join for a while the Quaker community, and she still admired many of their methods.