r hear. She is really in
no danger then?"

"None."

"Thank God! As you came in you looked so distressed I feared--"

"When it was all over and there was nothing to cry about, I cried,"
interrupted Gerald. "Women are always fools. I'll except Mrs. Whittridge,
however. She has been the greatest comfort to Phebe."

"It is Soeur Angelique's characteristic privilege always to be a comfort,
I believe," answered Denham, recovering his light-heartedness in a
flash. "Might I inquire if you have any especial object with this lamp?
Shall I do any thing particularly with it?"

"Let it down, please--anywhere. I remembered the room was dark, and ran
down to put it to rights before Mrs. Lane should comeback. Her orderly
soul would have a spasm if she came upon it suddenly like this."

"It was well I had no light," said Denham, looking around him. "It would
have frightened even me. Shan't I call some one?"

"It's the ridiculous fashion of the house to suppose it never needs
servants at this hour. There's not one within reach."

"You must let me help you then. Is this the table-cover?"

"Thanks. I am afraid the fire has done for it, but we can't help that.
Pull it a little farther to your side, please. Farther still. That's too
far. So. That's right. Now the lamp here. Now the books. Cover up the
holes with them."

"Ah, Miss Lydia's pet cup! and her little favorite statuette!"

"Hideous things! I'm glad they're smashed."

"Will you equally enjoy imparting to her the fact of their loss?"

"Somebody else may do that. I had my share telling her about Phebe."

"I suppose she was terribly shocked, poor old soul. I don't wonder."

"She had an instant attack of hysterics, and I _did_ wonder," rejoined
Gerald, tartly. "But as I told you, women are always fools, and nervous
women the worst ones, I haven't any patience with them. I was vexed
enough with her for keeping me from Phebe. I don't believe she was ever
hurried so out of an attack before."

"I'm afraid there's need of a broom or something here, Miss Vernor. This
vase is in a thousand pieces."

Gerald seized the hearth-brush and was on her knees by him in a moment.
"The lamp, please, Mr. Halloway. Set it on the floor an instant."

Denham moved it as desired, and stood looking down at her as she began
deftly brushing up the scattered bits.

"Miss Vernor!" he suddenly exclaimed in a shocked voice. The bright
light, falling broadly across her hands, showed two great ang