” 152 < 19 > THE WINDS OF NOVEMBER The Thanksgiving season brought a fierce wind that relentlessly whipped around the brick corners of the school. “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. ” She shivered. If he did resemble me, I shouldn't care about him. "Do you know anything further of Sir Rowland?" he asked. " "Sir Rowland Trenchard!" echoed Jack, in amazement.
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