sense of my own helplessness was the first sense in me that
recovered. I thought of Eunice's devoted little friend. A woman's
sympathy seemed to be needed now. I rose to lead the way out of the
garden.

"Selina will think we are lost," I said. "Let us go and find Selina."

"Not for the world," she cried.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't feel sure of myself. I might tell Selina something
which she must never know; I should be so sorry to frighten her. Let me
stop here with you."

I resumed my place at her side.

"Let me take your hand."

I gave her my hand. What composing influence this simple act may, or
may not, have exercised, it is impossible to say. She was quiet, she
was silent. After an interval, I heard her breathe a long-drawn sigh of
relief.

"I am afraid I have surprised you," she said. "Helena brings the
dreadful time back to me--" She stopped and shuddered.

"Don't speak of Helena, my dear."

"But I am afraid you will think--because I have said strange
things--that I have been talking at random," she insisted. "The doctor
will say that, if you meet with him. He believes I am deluded by a
dream. I tried to think so myself. It was of no use; I am quite sure he
is wrong."

I privately determined to watch for the doctor's arrival, and to consult
with him. Eunice went on:

"I have the story of a terrible night to tell you; but I haven't the
courage to tell it now. Why shouldn't you come back with me to the place
that I am staying at? A pleasant farm-house, and such kind people. You
might read the account of that night in my journal. I shall not regret
the misery of having written it, if it helps you to find out how this
hateful second self of mine has come to me. Hush! I want to ask you
something. Do you think Helena is in the house?"

"No--she has gone out."

"Did she say that herself? Are you sure?"

"Quite sure."

She decided on going back to the farm, while Helena was out of the way.
We left the garden together. For the first time, my companion noticed
the portfolio. I happened to be carrying it in the hand that was nearest
to her, as she walked by my side.

"Where did you get that?" she asked.

It was needless to reply in words. My hesitation spoke for me.

"Carry it in your other hand," she said--"the hand that's furthest away
from me. I don't want to see it! Do you mind waiting a moment while I
find Selina? You will go to the farm with us, won't you?"

I had to look over the letter