She sat down in despair by the window.

It commanded a view of the little side-terrace which had been Anne's favorite walk at Windygates.

With weary eyes and aching heart the poor child looked at the familiar place; and asked herself, with the bitter repentance that comes too late, if she had destroyed the last chance of finding Anne! She sat passively at the window, while the hours of the morning wore on, until the postman came.

Before the servant could take the letter bag she was in the hall to receive it.

Was it possible to hope that the bag had brought tidings of Anne?
She sorted the letters; and lighted suddenly on a letter to herself.