uff what is familiar to 'im," explained Robinson,
and so saying, he took from some corner of the room a little table and
set it up by a chair by the fire, for the Warden's tea-tray.

Meanwhile May Dashwood had taken tea with her Aunt Lena and then had
gone to her own room. So that when the Warden did arrive, just about
half-past five, he found no one moving about, no one visible. He came in
like a thief in the night, pale and silent. He glanced round the hall,
preoccupied apparently, but really aware of things that were around him
to a high degree of sensitiveness. He moved noiselessly, rang the bell,
and then looked at the table for letters. Robinson appeared immediately.
The Warden's narrow eyes, that seemed to absorb the light that fell upon
them, rested upon Robinson's face with that steady but veiled regard
with which a master controls those who are under him.

The Warden did not ask "Where are the ladies?" he asked whether Lady
Dashwood was in.

"In 'er room, sir," said Robinson; and he then proceeded to explain why,
and gave the doctor's report. "Nothin' alarmin', sir."

The Warden said "Ah!" and looked down at the table. He glanced over the
letters that were waiting for him. He gathered them in his hands.

"Tea is in the library for you, sir," said old Robinson; "I will bring
it in a minute."

The Warden went upstairs.

He went past the drawing-room and past his bedroom into the library. He
threw his letters down on the writing-desk, walked to the fire, and then
walked back again to the desk. Then he finally went out of the room and
passed the head of the staircase and up the two or three steps into the
corridor.

He had been into the corridor three times since the arrival of his
sister. Once when he conducted her to her room, on her arrival, once
again when she had made alterations in the bedrooms and had asked for
his approval, and then on that wretched night when he had gone to calm
Gwendolen and assure her that there were no such things as ghosts. Now
he went along over the noiseless floor, anxious to meet no one. Why was
Lena ill? He knew why Lena was ill, but for a moment he felt wearily
vexed with her. Why did she make things worse? This feeling vanished
when he opened her door and went in, and saw her sitting up in bed
supported by pillows. Then his feeling was of remorse, of anger
increased against himself, and himself only.

She was turning the pages of a paper, ostentatiously looking at the