By-and-by they returned to Edinburgh--where Anne spent the remainder of the day in making some necessary calls. She spoke as little as possible of her intention of remaining in Aberford--those ordinary questions were so difficult to answer. And who was this melancholy woman who had brought little Lilie to Strathoran? Could _she_ have any connection with Norman's history, or was it only the prevailing tone of Anne's mind and thoughts that threw its fantastic coloring on every object she looked upon? CHAPTER XXII. Upon the next day, Anne, accompanied by Jacky, left Edinburgh finally for her Aberford lodgings. She felt the isolation strangely at first: being alone in her own room, and being alone in the parlor of Mrs. Yammer's house, were two very different things. She seated herself by the window as these long afternoon hours wore on. Jacky sat at the other end of the room, already engaged on some one of the numberless linen articles, which had been provided by her prudent mother, to keep her occupied. Jacky had already cast several longing glances at the little shelf between the windows, which contained the books of Mrs. Yammer's household, but the awe of Anne's presence was upon her; she sewed and dreamed in silence. The dark spectral house by the waterside--the melancholy woman who had taken Lilie to Strathoran--Anne's mind was full of these. Now and then a chance passenger upon the high road crossed before her; once or twice she had seen a solitary figure on the sands. None of these bore the same look. The steady pace of country business, and the meditative one of country leisure she could notice--nowhere the slow lingering heavy footsteps, the wistful melancholy face which distinguished the one individual, whom that fantastic spirit of imagination had already associated with Norman's fate. Anne had decided upon beginning her inquiries on the next day. She hastily bethought herself now, of a mode of making this evening of some service in her search; and turning to Jacky, bade her ask Miss Crankie and Mrs. Yammer to take tea with her.--Jacky with some hesitation obeyed--she thought it was letting down Miss Anne's dignity. Miss Anne herself thought it was rather disagreeable and unpleasant: nevertheless, it might be of use, and she was content to endure it. Miss Crankie had a turban, terrible to behold, made of black net, with what looked like spangles of yellow paint upon it, which she wore on solemn occasions. In honor of her new lodger, she donned it to-night. Jacky arranged the tea in almost sulky silence. At the appointed hour, Miss Crankie and her sister sailed solemnly in.