e lifted her on to a
deep old sofa at the end of the room, wrapped her in a warm Oriental
coverlet which hung there, and held her to his heart, murmuring love and
comfort in her cold little ear. It seemed gradually to soothe her,
although he did not think she really awoke. Then he put her down,
lighted the lamp outside, and, not without difficulty, carried her up to
bed. Her eyes were half closed when he laid her down and drew the
bedclothes over her; and a minute or two later, when he looked in from
his dressing-room, she was evidently asleep.

When he got into bed she did not stir, and while he lay awake for
another hour, she remained motionless and breathing regularly. He
assured himself that the whole curious occurrence could be explained by
the electrical state of the atmosphere, which had affected his own
nerves in a way he would never humiliate himself by confessing to any
one. Those mysterious footsteps on the stairs which he had heard,
footsteps like his wife's yet not hers; that hand upon the door, that
voice of sighs, were the creation of his own excited brain. In time he
would doubtless come to believe his own assurances on the point, but
that night at the bottom of his heart he did not believe them.

CHAPTER X

Next morning, if Ian himself slept late, Milly slept later still. The
strained and troubled look which he had seen upon her face even in sleep
the night before, had passed away in the morning, but she lay almost
alarmingly still and white. He was reassured by remembering that once
when they were in Switzerland she had slept about sixteen hours and
awakened in perfect health. He remained in the house watching over her,
and about four o'clock she woke up. But she was very pale and very
quiet; exhausted, he thought, by her strange mental and physical
exertions of the night before.

She came down to tea with her pretty hair unbecomingly twisted up, and
dressed in a brownish-yellow tea-gown, which he fancied he remembered
hearing her denounce as only fit to be turned into a table-cloth. He did
not precisely criticise these details, but they helped in the impression
of lifelessness and gloom that hung about her. It was a faint, gleamy
afternoon, and such sun as there was did not shine into the study. The
dark panelling looked darker than usual, and as she sat silent and
listless in a corner of the old sofa, her hair and face stood out
against it almost startling in their blondness and whiteness