Has death got hold of my mind before my body?"

"Hush! hush! I'll tell you the name. Sir Jervis Redwood."

"I don't know him. I don't want to know him. Do you think he means
to send for you. Perhaps he _has_ sent for you. I won't allow it! You
shan't go!"

"Don't excite yourself, dear! I have refused to go; I mean to stay here
with you."

The fevered brain held to its last idea. "_Has_ he sent for you?" she
said again, louder than before.

Emily replied once more, in terms carefully chosen with the one purpose
of pacifying her. The attempt proved to be useless, and worse--it seemed
to make her suspicious. "I won't be deceived!" she said; "I mean to know
all about it. He did send for you. Whom did he send?"

"His housekeeper."

"What name?" The tone in which she put the question told of excitement
that was rising to its climax. "Don't you know that I'm curious about
names?" she burst out. "Why do you provoke me? Who is it?"

"Nobody you know, or need care about, dear aunt. Mrs. Rook."

Instantly on the utterance of that name, there followed an unexpected
result. Silence ensued.

Emily waited--hesitated--advanced, to part the curtains, and look in at
her aunt. She was stopped by a dreadful sound of laughter--the cheerless
laughter that is heard among the mad. It suddenly ended in a dreary
sigh.

Afraid to look in, she spoke, hardly knowing what she said. "Is there
anything you wish for? Shall I call--?"

Miss Letitia's voice interrupted her. Dull, low, rapidly muttering, it
was unlike, shockingly unlike, the familiar voice of her aunt. It said
strange words.

"Mrs. Rook? What does Mrs. Rook matter? Or her husband either? Bony,
Bony, you're frightened about nothing. Where's the danger of those two
people turning up? Do you know how many miles away the village is? Oh,
you fool--a hundred miles and more. Never mind the coroner, the coroner
must keep in his own district--and the jury too. A risky deception? I
call it a pious fraud. And I have a tender conscience, and a cultivated
mind. The newspaper? How is _our_ newspaper to find its way to her, I
should like to know? You poor old Bony! Upon my word you do me good--you
make me laugh."

The cheerless laughter broke out again--and died away again drearily in
a sigh.

Accustomed to decide rapidly in the ordinary emergencies of her life,
Emily felt herself painfully embarrassed by the position in which she
was now placed.

After what she had already heard,