to time. At first she always spoke just as she was
moving away from the door, and consequently, when her back was turned
towards the place where Hermione sat on the other side of the wall, her
words were lost, and only incoherent sounds reached the young girl's
ears. Presently, however, she stopped just behind the door, and her
voice came clear and distinct through the thin wooden panel:--

"I wish he were dead. I wish he were dead. Oh, I wish I could kill him
myself!" Then the voice ceased, and the sound of the footsteps began
again, pacing up and down.

Hermione started, and sat upright in her chair, while the tears dried
slowly on her cheeks. The habit of considering her aunt to be insane was
not wholly lost, and it was natural that she should listen to such
unwonted sounds. For some time she could hear the voice at intervals,
but the words were indistinct and confused. Her aunt was probably very
ill, or under the influence of some hallucination which kept her awake.
Hermione crept stealthily near the door, and listened intently. Madame
Patoff continued to walk regularly up and down. At last she heard clear
words again:--

"I wish I could kill him; then Alexis could marry her. Alexis ought to
marry her, but he never will. Cannot Paul die!"

Hermione shrank from the door in horror. She was frightened and shaken,
and after the events of the evening her aunt's soliloquies produced a
much greater effect upon her than would have been possible six hours
earlier. Her first impulse was not to listen more, and she hastily began
to undress, making a noise with the chairs, and walking as heavily as
she could. Then she listened a moment, and all was still in the next
room. Her aunt had probably heard her, and had feared lest she herself
should be overheard. Hermione crept into bed, and closed her eyes. At
the end of a few minutes the steps began again, and after some time the
indistinct sounds of Madame Patoffs voice reached the young girl's ears.
She seemed to speak in lower tones than before, however, for the words
she spoke could not be distinguished. But Hermione strained her
attention to the utmost, while telling herself that it was better she
should not hear. The nervous anxiety to know whether Madame Patoff were
still repeating the same phrases made her heart beat fast, and she lay
there in the dark, her eyes wide open, her little hands tightening on
the sheet, praying that the sounds might cease altogether, or that sh