e
might understand their import. Her pulse beat audibly for a few seconds,
then seemed to stop altogether in sudden fear, while her forehead grew
damp with terror. She thought that any supernatural visitation would
have been less fearful than this reality, and she strove to collect her
senses and to compose herself to rest.

At last she could bear it no longer. She got up and groped her way to
the door of her aunt's room, not meaning to enter, but unable to
withstand the desire to hear the words of which the incoherent murmur
alone came to her in her bed. She reached the door, but in feeling for
it her outstretched hand tapped sharply upon the panel. Instantly the
footsteps ceased. She knew that Madame Patoff had heard her, and that
the best thing she could do was to ask admittance.

"May I come in, aunt Annie?" she inquired, in trembling tones.

"Come in," was the answer; but the voice was almost as uncertain as her
own.

She opened the door. By the light of the single candle--an English
reading-light with a reflecting hood--she saw her aunt's figure standing
out in strong relief against the dark background of shadow. Madame
Patoff's thick gray hair was streaming down her back and over her
shoulders, and she held a hairbrush in her hand, as though the fit of
walking had come upon her while she was at her toilet. Her white
dressing-gown hung in straight folds to the floor, and her dark eyes
stared curiously at the young girl. Hermione was more startled than
before, for there was something unearthly about the apparition.

"Are you ill, aunt Annie?" she asked timidly, but she was awed by the
glare in the old lady's eyes. She glanced round the room. The bed was in
the shadow, and the bed-clothes were rolled together, so that they took
the shape of a human figure. Hermione shuddered, and for a moment
thought her aunt must be dead, and that she was looking at her ghost.
The girl's nerves were already so overstrained that the horrible idea
terrified her; the more, as several seconds elapsed before Madame Patoff
answered the question.

"No, I am not ill," she said slowly. "What made you ask?"

"I heard you walking up and down," explained Hermione. "It is very late;
you generally go to sleep so early"----

"I? I never sleep," answered the old lady, in a tone of profound
conviction, keeping her eyes fixed upon her niece's face.

"I cannot sleep, either, to-night," said Hermione, uneasily. She sat
down upon a chair, an