satisfaction.

"What does it matter?" Enid cried, passionately. She was acting none the
less magnificently because her nerves were quivering like harpstrings.
"When I am dead you can fling me in a ditch, for all I care. We are a
strange family and do strange things. The question of satisfaction need
not bother you. Take my measure and send the coffin home to-morrow, and
we will manage to do the rest. Then to-morrow night you will have a
four-horse hearse here at eleven o'clock, and drive the coffin to
Churchfield Church, where you will be expected. After that your work will
be finished."

The bewildered young man responded that things should be exactly as the
young lady required. He had seen many strange and wild things in his
time, but none so strange and weird as this. It was all utterly
irregular, of course, but people after all had a right to demand what
they paid for. Enid watched the demure young man in black down the
corridor, and then everything seemed to be enveloped in a dense purple
mist, the world was spinning under her feet, there was a great noise like
the rush of mighty waters in her brain. With a great effort she threw off
the weakness and came to herself, trembling from head to foot.

"Courage," she murmured, "courage. This life has told on me more than I
thought. With Chris's example before me I must not break down now."

CHAPTER XX

FRANK LITTIMER

The lamps gleamed upon the dusty statuary and pictures and faded flowers
in the hall, they glinted upon a long polished oak casket there reposing
upon trestles. Ever and anon a servant would peep in and vanish again as
if ashamed of something. The house was deadly quiet now, for Mrs. Henson
had fallen asleep worn out with exhaustion, and Enid had instantly
stopped the dreadful clamour of the bell. The silence that followed was
almost as painful as the noise had been.

On the coffin were wreaths of flowers. Enid sat in the drawing-room with
the door open, where she could see everything, but was herself unseen.
She was getting terribly anxious and nervous again; the hour was near
eleven, and the hearse might arrive at any time. She would know no kind
of peace until she could get that hideous mockery out of the house.

She sat listening thus, straining her ears to catch the slightest sound.
Suddenly there came a loud clamour at the front door, an imperative
knocking that caused Enid's heart to come into her mouth. Who could it
be? What strang