will arise when any one steps over the place
which is destined to be our grave. A pleasant fancy!

Zillah shuddered, and looked up at Hilda with a strange dazed
expression. It was some time before she spoke.

"They are family papers," she said. "I--I don't understand them. I
will look over them."

She gathered up the papers abruptly, and left the room. As the door
closed after her Hilda sat looking at the place where she had
vanished, with a very singular smile on her face.

For the remainder of that day Zillah continued shut up in her own
room. Hilda went once to ask, in a voice of the sweetest and
tenderest sympathy, what was the matter. Zillah only replied that she
was not well, and was lying down. She would not open her door,
however. Again, before bedtime, Hilda went. At her earnest entreaty
Zillah let her in. She was very pale, with a weary, anxious
expression on her face.

Hilda embraced her and kissed her.

"Oh, my darling," said she, "will you not tell me your trouble?
Perhaps I may be of use to you. Will you not give me your
confidence?"

"Not just yet, Hilda dearest. I do not want to trouble you. Besides,
there may be nothing in it. I will speak to the Earl first, and then
I will tell you."

"And you will not tell me now?" murmured Hilda, reproachfully.

"No, dearest, not now. Better not. You will soon know all, whether it
is good or bad. I am going back to Chetwynde to-morrow."

"To-morrow?"

"Yes," said Zillah, mournfully. "I must go back to end my suspense.
You can do nothing. Lord Chetwynde only can tell me what I want to
know. I will tell him all, and he can dispel my trouble, or else
deepen it in my heart forever."

"How terrible! What a frightful thing this must be. My darling, my
friend, my sister, tell me this--was it that wretched paper?"

"Yes," said Zillah. "And now, dearest, goodnight. Leave me--I am very
miserable."

Hilda kissed her again.

"Darling, I would not leave you, but you drive me away. You have no
confidence in your poor Hilda. But I will not reproach you.
Goodnight, darling."

"Good-night, dearest."

CHAPTER XVIII.

A SHOCK.

The discovery of these papers thus brought the visit to Pomeroy Court
to an abrupt termination. The place had now become intolerable to
Zillah. In her impatience she was eager to leave, and her one thought
now was to apply to Lord Chetwynde for a solution of this dark
mystery.

"Why, Zillah," he cried, as she came back; "w