ondered,
was this new patient of mine? Was he a miser, hiding himself and his
wealth in this obscure court? An eccentric savant? A philosopher?
Or--more probably--a crank? But at this point my meditations were
interrupted by the voice from the adjoining room, once more raised in
anger.

"But I say that you _are_ making an accusation! You are implying that
I made away with him."

"Not at all," was the reply; "but I repeat that it is your business to
ascertain what has become of him. The responsibility rests upon you."

"Upon me!" rejoined the first voice. "And what about you? Your
position is a pretty fishy one if it comes to that."

"What!" roared the other. "Do you insinuate that I murdered my own
brother?"

During this amazing colloquy I had stood gaping with sheer
astonishment. Suddenly I recollected myself, and dropping into a
chair, set my elbows on my knees and clapped my hands over my ears; and
thus I must have remained for a full minute when I became aware of the
closing of a door behind me.

I sprang to my feet and turned in some embarrassment (for I must have
looked unspeakably ridiculous) to confront the somber figure of a
rather tall and strikingly handsome girl, who, as she stood with her
hand on the knob of the door, saluted me with a formal bow. In an
instantaneous glance I noted how perfectly she matched her strange
surroundings. Black-robed, black-haired, with black-gray eyes and a
grave sad face of ivory pallor, she stood, like one of old Terborch's
portraits, a harmony in tones so low as to be but one step removed from
monochrome. Obviously a lady in spite of the worn and rusty dress, and
something in the poise of the head and the set of the straight brows
hinted at a spirit that adversity had hardened rather than broken.

"I must ask you to forgive me for keeping you waiting," she said; and
as she spoke a certain softening at the corners of the austere mouth
reminded me of the absurd position in which she had found me.

I murmured that the trifling delay was of no consequence whatever; that
I had, in fact, been rather glad of the rest; and I was beginning
somewhat vaguely to approach the subject of the invalid when the voice
from the adjoining room again broke forth with hideous distinctness.

"I tell you I'll do nothing of the kind! Why, confound you, it's
nothing less than a conspiracy that your [Transcriber's note: you're?]
proposing!"

Miss Bellingham--as I assumed her