far
as the sitting-room below.

She began to descend the stairs quietly. There was still a light in the
hall, but the quietness of the house reassured her. On turning an angle
of the stairs, however, she saw that the door of the drawing-room was
open, and that just within stood two figures--her mother and Mr. Rudge.
They seemed to be whispering together, and in the same moment their
lips met. Then the man came out and went downstairs. Mrs. Enderby
turned back into the drawing-room.

Maud stood fixed to the spot. Darkness had closed in around her, and
she clung to the banisters to save herself from the gulf which seemed
to yawn before her feet. The ringing of a bell, the drawing-room bell
summoning Mrs. Enderby's maid, brought her back to consciousness, and
with trembling limbs she regained her room. It was as though some
ghastly vision of the night had shaken her soul. The habit of her mind
overwhelmed her with the conviction that she knew at last the meaning
of that mystery of horror which had of late been strengthening its hold
upon her imagination. The black cloud which lowered above the house had
indeed its significance; the voices which wailed to her of sin and woe
were the true expression of things amid which she had been moving
unconsciously. That instinct which made her shrink from her mother's
presence was not without its justification; the dark powers which
circled her existence had not vainly forced their influence upon her.
Her first impulse was to flee from the house; the air breathed
pestilence and death, death of the soul. Looking about her in the
anguish of conflicting thoughts, her eyes fell upon the pages she had
written. These now came before her as a proof of contagion which had
seized upon her own nature; she tore the letter hastily into fragments,
and, striking fire with a match, consumed them in the grate. As she
watched the sparks go out, there came a rustling of dresses past her
door. She flung herself upon her knees and sought refuge in wild,
wordless prayer.

A fortnight after this Maud went late in the evening to the room where
she knew her father was sitting alone. Paul Enderby looked up from his
papers in surprise; it was some time since Maud had sought private
conversation with him. As he met her pale, resolute face, he knew that
she had a serious purpose in thus visiting him, and his look changed to
one of nervous anticipation.

"Do I disturb you, father?" Maud asked. "Could you spar