tinct within her rebelled, and it was with
difficulty she could prevent herself from breaking out into a loud 'No!'
in face of aunt and lover. From this moment on her state of mind grew
desperate. In the parlour, at the theatre, she was the brilliant girl
whom all admired and many envied; but in my little room at night she
would bury her face in my lap and talk of death, till I moved in a
constant atmosphere of dread. Yet, because she looked gay and laughed, I
turned a like face to the world and laughed also. We felt it was
expected of us, and the very nervous tension we were under made these
ebullitions easy. But I did not laugh so much after coming here. One
night I found her out of her bed long after every one else had retired
for the night. Next morning Mr. Beaton told a dream--I hope it was a
dream--but it frightened me. Then came that moment when Mr. Sinclair
displayed the amethyst box and explained with such a nonchalant air how
a drop from the little flask inside would kill a person. A toy, but so
deadly! I felt the thrill which shot like lightning through her, and
made up my mind she should never have the opportunity of touching that
box. And that is why I stole into the library, took it down and hid it
in my hair. I never thought to look inside; I did not pause to think
that it was the flask and not the box she wanted, and consequently felt
convinced of her safety so long as I kept the latter successfully
concealed in my hair. You know the rest."

Yes, I knew it. How she opened the box in her room and found it empty.
How she flew to Gilbertine's room, and, finding the door unlocked,
looked in, and saw Miss Lane lying there asleep, but no Gilbertine. How
her alarm grew at this, and how, forgetting that her cousin often stole
to her room by means of the connecting balcony, she had wandered over
the house in the hope of coming upon Gilbertine in one of the downstairs
rooms. How her mind misgave her before she had entered the great hall,
and how she turned back only to hear that awful scream go up as she was
setting foot upon the spiral stair. I had heard it all before, and could
imagine her terror and dismay; and why she found it impossible to
proceed any further, but clung to the stair-rail, half alive and half
dead, till she was found there by those seeking her, and taken up to her
aunt's room. But she never told me, and I do not yet know, what her
thoughts or feelings were when, instead of seeing her cousin
ou