And remember, Wallis, there's something the matter with Mr. Allan's shutters. They won't always close the sunshine out as they should."Wallis almost winked, if an elderly, mutton-chopped servitor can be imagined as winking."No, ma'am," he promised. Something wrong with 'em. I'll remember, ma'am.

Spring had been the season for dying in the old days. Invalids who had struggled through the dark comfort of winter took fright as the night receded.