ppose I shall have to take myself off
again in a day or two and give him a show." And he laughed at his own
joke.

The very next day, as it happened, Mr. Ranford called. The footman said
the three were very merry over their tea in the library, and Mr.
Brympton strolled down to the gate with Mr. Ranford when he left.

I have said that things went on as usual; and so they did with the rest
of the household; but as for myself, I had never been the same since
the night my bell had rung. Night after night I used to lie awake,
listening for it to ring again, and for the door of the locked room to
open stealthily. But the bell never rang, and I heard no sound across
the passage. At last the silence began to be more dreadful to me than
the most mysterious sounds. I felt that _someone_ were cowering there,
behind the locked door, watching and listening as I watched and
listened, and I could almost have cried out, "Whoever you are, come out
and let me see you face to face, but don't lurk there and spy on me in
the darkness!"

Feeling as I did, you may wonder I didn't give warning. Once I very
nearly did so; but at the last moment something held me back. Whether
it was compassion for my mistress, who had grown more and more
dependent on me, or unwillingness to try a new place, or some other
feeling that I couldn't put a name to, I lingered on as if spell-bound,
though every night was dreadful to me, and the days but little better.

For one thing, I didn't like Mrs. Brympton's looks. She had never been
the same since that night, no more than I had. I thought she would
brighten up after Mr. Brympton left, but though she seemed easier in
her mind, her spirits didn't revive, nor her strength either. She had
grown attached to me, and seemed to like to have me about; and Agnes
told me one day that, since Emma Saxon's death, I was the only maid her
mistress had taken to. This gave me a warm feeling for the poor lady,
though after all there was little I could do to help her.

After Mr. Brympton's departure, Mr. Ranford took to coming again,
though less often than formerly. I met him once or twice in the
grounds, or in the village, and I couldn't but think there was a change
in him too; but I set it down to my disordered fancy.

The weeks passed, and Mr. Brympton had now been a month absent. We
heard he was cruising with a friend in the West Indies, and Mr. Wace
said that was a long way off, but though you had the wings of a dove
an