anxiety."

What his engagement to Gwendolen would mean to her was expressed more in
her voice even than in her words. The Warden stood motionless.

"Be patient with me, Lena. I can't talk about it--I would if I could. I
know all I owe to you--all I can never repay; but there is nothing more
to tell you than that I have offered her a home. I have made a
proposal--I was not aware that she had definitely accepted, and that is
why I said nothing to you about it."

Lady Dashwood got up. She did not approach her brother. Her instinct
told her not to touch him, or entreat him by such means. She made a step
towards the hearth, and said in a muffled voice--

"Will you answer one question? You can answer it."

He made no sound of assent.

"Are you in love with her? or"--and here Lady Dashwood's voice
shook--"do you feel that she will help you? Do you think she will be
helpful to--the College?"

There was a pause, and then the Warden's voice came to her; he was
forcing himself to speak very calmly.

"I have no right to speak of what may not happen. Lena, can't you see
that I haven't?"

The pause came again.

"You have answered it," said Lady Dashwood, in a broken voice.

There was no time to think now, for at that moment there came a sound
that startled both of them and made them stand for a second with lifted
heads listening.

"Some one screamed!" exclaimed Lady Dashwood.

The Warden was already at the door and had pulled it open. "The
library!" he called out to her sharply, and he was gone. She hurried out
after him, her heart beating with the sudden alarm. What had happened,
what was it?

CHAPTER XII

THE GHOST

As soon as she had reached her room Gwendolen Scott sat down seriously
by the little writing-table. Here was the paper and here was the pen,
but the composition of the letter to the Warden was not even projected
in her mind. The thoughts would not come.

"Dear Dr. Middleton," Gwen began with complete satisfaction. That was
all right. After some thought she went on. "Mother asks me to give you
her letter!" No, of course, that wouldn't do. Her mother wouldn't like
him to know that she ordered the letter to be shown to him. Everything
on the slip of paper was secret. It was not the first time that Gwen had
received private slips of paper.

Gwen was obliged to tear up the sheet and begin again: "Dear Dr.
Middleton,"----

Now what would she say? It would take her all night. Of course, Louis