y for sleep, and softly smiling that it was near at
last. So comfortable she seemed, you could have sworn she breathed.

Antony lifted her head once or twice with his fingers, to delight
himself with seeing her sink back luxuriously once more.

Beatrice grew more and more white.

"Antony, please stop. I cannot bear it. She looks so terribly alive."

At that moment Antony's touch had been a little too forcible, the image
hung poised for a moment and then began to fall in the direction of
Beatrice.

"Oh, she is falling," she almost screamed, as Antony saved the cast from
the floor. "For God's sake, stop!"

"How childish of you, Beatrice. She is only plaster. I never knew you
such a baby."

"I cannot help it, Antony. I know it is foolish, but I cannot help it. I
think living in this place has made me morbid. She seems so alive--so
evil, so cruel. I am sorry you bought her, Antony. I cannot bear to look
at her. Won't you take her away? Take her up into the wood. Keep her
there. Take her now. I shall not be able to sleep all night if I know
she is in the house."

She was half hysterical, and Antony soothed her gently.

"Yes, yes, dear. I'm sorry. I'll take her up the wood now this minute.
Wait till I light the lantern. Poor Beatrice, I never dreamed she would
affect you so. I loved her, dear--because I love you; but I would rather
break her in pieces than that she should make you unhappy. Though to
break any image of you, dear," he added tenderly, "would seem a kind of
sacrilege. You know how I love you, Beatrice, don't you?"

"Of course I do, dear; and it was sweet of you to buy her for my sake,
and I'm quite silly to-night. To-morrow I shall think nothing about her.
Still, dear, she does frighten me, I can't tell why. There seems
something malignant about her, something that threatens our happiness.
Oh, how silly I am--"

Meanwhile, Antony had lit an old brass lantern, and presently he was
flashing his way up among the dark sounds of the black old wood, with
that ghostly face tenderly pressed against his side.

He stopped once to turn his lantern upon her. How mysterious she looked,
here in the night, under the dark pines!

He too felt a little haunted as he climbed his chalet staircase and
unlocked the door, every sound he made echoing fatefully in the silent
wood; and when he had found a place for the image and hung her there,
she certainly looked a ghostly companion for the midnight lamp, in the
middle o