nd you to explain,' she said,
'that you went out of this house, just your usual self, this afternoon,
for a walk; that for some reason you went to Widderstone--"to read the
tombstones," that you had a heart attack, or, as you said at first, a
fit, that you fell into a stupor, and came home like--like this. Am I
likely to believe all that? Am I likely to believe such a story as that?
Whoever you are, whoever you may be, is it likely? I am not in the least
afraid. I thought at first it was some silly practical joke. I thought
that at first.' She paused, but no answer came. 'Well, I suppose in a
civilised country there is a remedy even for a joke as wicked as that.'

Lawford listened patiently. 'She is pretending; she is trying me; she is
feeling her way,' he kept repeating to himself. 'She knows I AM I, but
hasn't the courage... Let her talk!'

'I shall leave the door open,' Sheila continued. 'I am not, as you
no doubt very naturally assumed--I am not going to do anything either
senseless or heedless. I am merely going to ask your brother Cecil
to come in, if he is at home, and if not, no doubt our old friend
Mr. Montgomery would--would help us.' Her scrutiny was still and
concentrated, like that of a cat above a mouse's hole.

Lawford sat crouched together in the candle-light. 'By all means,
Sheila,' he said slowly choosing his words, 'if you think poor old
Cecil, who next January will have been three years in his grave, will
be of any use in our difficulty. Who Mr. Montgomery is...' His voice
dropped in utter weariness. 'You did it very well, my dear,' he added
softly.

Sheila gently closed the door and sat down on the bed. He heard her
softly crying, he heard the bed shaken with her sobs. But a slow glance
towards the steady candle-flames restrained him. He let her cry on
alone. When she had become a little more composed he stood up. 'You have
had no dinner,' he managed to blurt out at last, 'you will be faint.
It's useless to talk, even to think, any more to-night. Leave me to
myself for a while. Don't look at me any more. Perhaps I can sleep:
perhaps if I sleep it will come right again. When the servants are
gone up, I will come down. Just let me have some--some medical book, or
other; and some more candles. Don't think, Sheila; don't even think!'

Sheila paid him no attention for a while. 'You tell me not to think,'
she began, in a low, almost listless voice; 'why--I wonder I am in my
right mind. And "eat"! How