ntains; the sparrows had
twittered under the eaves; just as they had done yesterday, just as they
would do to-morrow. And as for him, he was dead--quite dead.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, crossed his arms along the
foot-rail, and rested his forehead upon them. There was plenty of time;
and his head ached so--the very middle of the brain seemed to ache; it
was all so dull and stupid--so utterly meaningless----

*****

The front-door bell rang sharply, and he started up in a breathless
agony of terror, with both hands at his throat. They had come back--he
had sat there dreaming, and let the precious time slip away--and now
he must see their faces and hear their cruel tongues--their sneers and
comments--If only he had a knife------

He looked desperately round the room. His mother's work-basket stood
in a little cupboard; surely there would be scissors; he might sever an
artery. No; the sheet and nail were safer, if he had time.

He dragged the counterpane from his bed, and with frantic haste began
tearing off a strip. The sound of footsteps came up the stairs. No; the
strip was too wide; it would not tie firmly; and there must be a noose.
He worked faster as the footsteps drew nearer; and the blood throbbed
in his temples and roared in his ears. Quicker--quicker! Oh, God! five
minutes more!

There was a knock at the door. The strip of torn stuff dropped from his
hands, and he sat quite still, holding his breath to listen. The handle
of the door was tried; then Julia's voice called:

"Arthur!"

He stood up, panting.

"Arthur, open the door, please; we are waiting."

He gathered up the torn counterpane, threw it into a drawer, and hastily
smoothed down the bed.

"Arthur!" This time it was James who called, and the door-handle was
shaken impatiently. "Are you asleep?"

Arthur looked round the room, saw that everything was hidden, and
unlocked the door.

"I should think you might at least have obeyed my express request that
you should sit up for us, Arthur," said Julia, sweeping into the room in
a towering passion. "You appear to think it the proper thing for us to
dance attendance for half an hour at your door----"

"Four minutes, my dear," James mildly corrected, stepping into the room
at the end of his wife's pink satin train. "I certainly think, Arthur,
that it would have been more--becoming if----"

"What do you want?" Arthur interrupted. He was standing with his hand
upon the door, glanci