e sacrifice made to her convenience by Mrs. James.
'Thanks to that lady's kindness,' she said, 'Marian and I are only on
the other side of the drawing-room.' Henry made no remark; he looked
incomprehensibly discontented as he opened the door for Agnes and her
companion to pass out. After wishing them good night, he waited in the
corridor until he saw them enter the fatal corner-room--and then he
called abruptly to his brother, 'Come out, Stephen, and let us smoke!'

As soon as the two brothers were at liberty to speak together
privately, Henry explained the motive which had led to his strange
inquiries about the bedrooms. Francis had informed him of the meeting
with the Countess at Venice, and of all that had followed it; and Henry
now carefully repeated the narrative to his brother in all its details.
'I am not satisfied,' he added, 'about that woman's purpose in giving
up her room. Without alarming the ladies by telling them what I have
just told you, can you not warn Agnes to be careful in securing her
door?'

Lord Montbarry replied, that the warning had been already given by his
wife, and that Agnes might be trusted to take good care of herself and
her little bed-fellow. For the rest, he looked upon the story of the
Countess and her superstitions as a piece of theatrical exaggeration,
amusing enough in itself, but unworthy of a moment's serious attention.

While the gentlemen were absent from the hotel, the room which had been
already associated with so many startling circumstances, became the
scene of another strange event in which Lady Montbarry's eldest child
was concerned.

Little Marian had been got ready for bed as usual, and had (so far)
taken hardly any notice of the new room. As she knelt down to say her
prayers, she happened to look up at that part of the ceiling above her
which was just over the head of the bed. The next instant she alarmed
Agnes, by starting to her feet with a cry of terror, and pointing to a
small brown spot on one of the white panelled spaces of the carved
ceiling. 'It's a spot of blood!' the child exclaimed. 'Take me away!
I won't sleep here!'

Seeing plainly that it would be useless to reason with her while she
was in the room, Agnes hurriedly wrapped Marian in a dressing-gown, and
carried her back to her mother in the drawing-room. Here, the ladies
did their best to soothe and reassure the trembling girl. The effort
proved to be useless; the impression that had been produced on