going too fast; she must be more careful for the future. She must
proceed by such slow degrees that Mr. Ingledew himself should be
deceived. And she must change her plans also; for she found that Enid no
longer touched the cooling drinks that were placed beside her every
night--the girl said that she did not care for them, and sent them away
untouched. But surely there were plenty of other ways!

Mr. Evandale had said a few guarded words to Mr. Ingledew about his
treatment of Miss Vane, and his remarks had caused the surgeon to send a
simple tonic mixture instead of the soothing draughts which had formerly
excited some surprise and even some indignation in the Rector's mind. He
did not much believe in soothing draughts, as he soon elicited from Mr.
Ingledew that they had been made up in conformity with Mrs. Vane's views
of the case rather than according to what Mr. Ingledew himself thought
necessary; and a word from the Rector, whose medical knowledge was
really considerable, caused Mr. Ingledew to change his opinions very
speedily. At the same time, tonics, like other things, could be
doctored; and, as Mr. Evandale was out of the way, Enid's welfare lay,
for the time being, at Flossy's mercy.

She began to suffer in the old way--from dizziness and nausea and pains
for which she could not account, with an utterly inexplicable weakness
and languor, different from all her former symptoms. Perhaps Mrs. Vane
had altered her treatment. At any rate, it was certain that some
mysterious factor was at work stealing the girl's energy away from her,
diminishing her vitality, bringing her, in short, to the very gates of
death. And so insidiously did the work proceed that even Parker, who had
had suspicions of her mistress, scarcely noticed the advance of Enid's
malady. There were no more fainting-fits--nothing definitely alarming;
but day by day the girl grew weaker, and no one noticed or guessed the
reason why.

Enid's nights were restless; but she had not been disturbed since
Flossy's return from London by the white figure which she had seen at
her bedside. She told herself that Maurice was right--that her nerves
had played her false, and that the appearances had been a mere phantasm
of her imagination. She quite lost her fear of seeing it again; and,
although she had held no further conversation with the Rector after Mrs.
Vane's arrival in the house, she was reassured and strengthened by the
remembrance of his words. When she