“And she was strangely dressed, from head to foot, all in white?”

“All in white.”

While the answer was passing my lips Miss Fairlie glided into view on the terrace for the third time. Instead of proceeding on her walk, she stopped, with her back turned towards us, and, leaning on the balustrade of the terrace, looked down into the garden beyond. My eyes fixed upon the white gleam of her muslin gown and headdress in the moonlight, and a sensation, for which I can find no name⁠—a sensation that quickened my pulse, and raised a fluttering at my heart⁠—began to steal over me.