villas who told him all
about what his daughter was going to do.

The outbreak came, and in a fashion as Tristram-esque as Mina could
desire, for all that the harbinger of it was frightened little Mr
Gainsborough, more frightened still. He came up the hill one evening
about six, praying Mina's immediate presence at Blent. Something had
happened, he explained, as they walked down. Cecily had had a
letter--from somebody in London. No, not Harry. She must see Mina at
once. That was all he knew, except that his daughter was perturbed and
excited. His manner protested against the whole thing with a mild
despair.

"Quick, quick!" cried the Imp, almost making him run to keep up with her
impatient strides.

Cecily was in her room--the room that had been Addie Tristram's.

"You've moved in here!" was Mina's first exclamation.

"Yes; the housekeeper said I must, so I did. But----" She glanced up for
a moment at Addie's picture and broke off. Then she held up a letter
which she had in her hand. "Do you know anything of Lord Southend?" she
asked.

"I've heard Mr Iver and Mr Neeld speak of him. That's all."

"He writes to say he knew Lady Tristram and--and Harry, and hopes he'll
know me soon."

"That's very friendly." Mina thought, but did not add, that it was
rather unimportant.

"Yes, but it's more than that. Don't you see? It's an opening." She
looked at her friend, impatient at her want of comprehension. "It makes
it possible to do something. I can begin now."

"Begin what?" Mina was enjoying her own bewilderment keenly.

"How long did you think I could stand it? I'm not made of--of--of soap!
You know Harry! You liked him, didn't you? And you knew Lady Tristram!
I've slept in this room two nights and----"

"You haven't seen a ghost?"

"Ghost! Oh, don't be silly. I've lain here awake, looking at that
picture. And it's looked at me--at least it seemed to. 'What are you
doing here?' That's what it's been saying. 'What are you doing here?'
No, I'm not mad. That's what I was saying myself. But the picture seemed
to say it."

There was a most satisfactory absence of Gainsborough about all this.

"Then I go into the Long Gallery! It's no better there!" Her hands were
flung out despairingly.

"You seemed to have settled down so well," murmured Mina.

"Settled down! What was there to do? Oh, you know I hadn't! I can't bear
it, Mina, and I won't. Isn't it hard? I should have loved it all so, if
it had been really mi