When she looked up again, she discovered that her aunt had vanished. In her place sat another woman entirely: younger by twenty years at least, and dressed according to the fashions of Aylfenhame. Her hair was prettily bound up under a coronet of flowers, and she wore a shimmering, full-sleeved gown of rose-pink and gold velvet.
Isabel gasped, and stared wildly around the room. She had not heard her aunt leave, nor anybody else enter! Surprise clouded her thoughts, and some moments passed before the truth occurred to her.
The lady opposite was her aunt, only restored to youth. Youth, and something else. For her hair was no longer the familiar shade of brown threaded with grey, but had developed a coppery sheen. Stranger still, the hazel hue of her eyes had vanished in favour of a pale gr
