Chapter XXIX

Anna stood peeping behind the pretty muslin curtain
of her kitchen window. She was standing in
exactly the same place and attitude she had stood in
eight months before, on the first day of war. But oh,
how different were the sensations and the thoughts
with which she now looked out on the familiar scene!
She had then been anxious and disturbed, but not as
she was disturbed and anxious today.

The Trellis House had become so entirely her home
that she resented bitterly being forced to leave it
against her will. Also, she dreaded the thought of the
days she would have to spend under Miss Forsyth's
roof.

Anna had never liked Miss Forsyth. Miss Forsyth
had a rather short, sharp way with her, or so the old
German woman considered -- and her house was always
full of such queer folk below and above stairs.
Just now there was the Belgian family, and also, as
Anna had managed to discover, three odd-come-shorts
in the kitchen.

Anna's general unease had not been lessened by a
mysterious letter which she had received from her
daughter this morning. In it the writer hinted that
her husband was getting into some fresh trouble.
Louisa had ended with a very disturbing sentence: "I
feel as if I can't bear my life!" -- that was what Louisa
had written.

The minutes dragged by, and Anna, staring out into

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v?