g up her
tiny features in disgust, and when this had happened once or twice Mrs
Roy's attention was also drawn to the change.

"Are you quite well and happy, Biddy?" she asked. "You don't look so
bright as you used to."

Biddy twisted up the corners of her apron and hung her head on one side,
but made no answer.

"_Are_ you quite happy, Biddy?" persisted her mistress.

Biddy would have given worlds to say, "I'm terr'ble afraid of the
ghost," but her tongue refused to utter the words, and after waiting a
moment Mrs Roy turned away. But that night she said to her husband in
mournful emphatic tones:

"Richard, I _hope_ it's only my nervousness, but I _do_ believe that
somehow or other Biddy has heard something about _that_."

No one was quite happy and comfortable at Truslow Manor just now, for
latterly the baby had been ailing; she had evidently caught a chill and
was feverish and fretful. "How could Dulcie have taken cold?" Mrs Roy
wondered many times in the day, while the conscience-stricken Biddy
stood speechless, and thought of that conversation at the kitchen door.
Mr Roy was made uneasy too by his wife's anxiety, and also felt deeply
incapable of making any suggestion about the origin or treatment of
Dulcie's illness; everything seemed a little ruffled and disturbed in
its usual even flow.

"You know I have to take the service over at Cherril to-night," said Mr
Roy to his wife one morning. "They've asked me to dine there
afterwards. You won't mind my leaving you? I shall get back by ten."

"Oh, no!" replied Mrs Roy readily, though in truth she was not fond of
spending the evening at Truslow Manor alone. "I shall have Biddy down
to sit with me; and I do think baby seems better to-day. It's a long
walk for you, though, Richard, and there's no moon."

"Oh, I'll take a lantern!" said the curate, and accordingly he started
off that afternoon on his six-miles walk thus provided.

Biddy and her mistress spent the evening together, talking softly over
their needlework, so as not to disturb Dulcie's sleep in the cradle
near. The glowing fire, the cheerful room, and Mrs Roy's kind chat
were almost sufficient to drive away Biddy's usual terrors; at any rate
she forgot them for a time, and was peacefully happy. But this did not
last long. Suddenly the baby's breathing became hoarse and difficult,
and Mrs Roy, kneeling at the side of the cradle, looked up in alarm at
her nurse.

"Oh, Biddy," she cried,