eep, Eusty?"

There still came no answer, and she went in.

The curtains were drawn, but a chink of moonlight peering through fell on
the bed. This was empty. Barbara stood uncertain, listening. In the
heart of that darkness there seemed to be, not sound, but, as it were,
the muffled soul of sound, a sort of strange vibration, like that of a
flame noiselessly licking the air. She put her hand to her heart, which
beat as though it would leap through the thin silk covering. From what
corner of the room was that mute tremor coming? Stealing to the window,
she parted the curtains, and stared back into the shadows. There, on the
far side, lying on the floor with his arms pressed tightly round his head
and his face to the wall, was Miltoun. Barbara let fall the curtains,
and stood breathless, with such a queer sensation in her breast as she
had never felt; a sense of something outraged-of scarred pride. It was
gone at once, in a rush of pity. She stepped forward quickly in the
darkness, was visited by fear, and stopped. He had seemed absolutely
himself all the evening. A little more talkative, perhaps, a little more
caustic than usual. And now to find him like this! There was no great
share of reverence in Barbara, but what little she possessed had always
been kept for her eldest brother. He had impressed her, from a child,
with his aloofness, and she had been proud of kissing him because he
never seemed to let anybody else do so. Those caresses, no doubt, had
the savour of conquest; his face had been the undiscovered land for her
lips. She loved him as one loves that which ministers to one's pride;
had for him, too, a touch of motherly protection, as for a doll that does
not get on too well with the other dolls; and withal a little
unaccustomed awe.

Dared she now plunge in on this private agony? Could she have borne that
anyone should see herself thus prostrate? He had not heard her, and she
tried to regain the door. But a board creaked; she heard him move, and
flinging away her fears, said: "It's me! Babs!" and dropped on her knees
beside him. If it had not been so pitch dark she could never have done
that. She tried at once to take his head into her arms, but could not
see it, and succeeded indifferently. She could but stroke his arm
continually, wondering whether he would hate her ever afterwards, and
blessing the darkness, which made it all seem as though it were not
happening, yet so much more