o mind."

Mavis was about to protest her absolute sincerity in the matter, when
Parkins, the maid who had dressed her, came into the room. She
whispered to her mistress, at which Mrs Hamilton rose hurriedly and
said:

"I must leave you for a little time on important business."

"What would you like me to do?" asked Mavis.

"Particularly one thing: don't leave this room."

"Why should I?"

"Quite so. But I want someone here when Mr Williams comes upstairs."

"I'll stick at my post," laughed Mavis, at which Mrs Hamilton and the
comely-looking maid left the room.

Left alone, Mavis surrendered herself to the feeling of uneasiness
which had been called into being, not only by her employer's strange
words, but, also, by the fact of Mr Williams having been addressed by
the other man as Windebank. The more she thought of it, the more
convinced was she that Mr Ellis had not made a mistake in calling the
other man by a different name to the one by which she had been
introduced to him. The fact of his having admitted that his home was in
Wiltshire, together with the sense of familiarity in his company,
seemingly begotten of old acquaintance, tended to strengthen this
conviction. On the other hand, if he were indeed the old friend of her
childhood, there seemed a purposed coincidence in the fact of their
having met again. She did not forget how her presence in Mrs Hamilton's
house was the result of an appeal to her Heavenly Father, who, she
firmly believed, would not let a human sparrow such as she fall to the
ground. She was curious to discover the result of this seemingly
preordained meeting. The sentimental speculation engendered a dreamy
languor which was suddenly interrupted by a sense of acute disquiet.
She was always a girl of abnormal susceptibility to what was going on
about her; to such an extent was this sensibility developed, that she
had learned to put implicit faith in the intuitions that possessed her.
Now, she was certain that something was going on in the house,
something that was hideous, unnatural, unholy, the conviction of which
seemed to freeze her soul. She had not the slightest doubt on the
matter: she felt it in the marrow of her bones.

She placed her hand on her eyes, as if to shut out the horrid
certainty; the temporary deprivation of sight but increased the
acuteness of her impression, consequently, her uneasiness. She felt the
need of space, of good, clean air. The fine drawing-room seemed t