d metal--all afar and indistinct. Next arose about her a
whispering, as of winged insects, talking with human voices; but she
listened to nothing, and heard nothing of what was said: it was all a
tiresome dream, out of which whether she waked or died it mattered not.

Suddenly she was taken between two hands, and lifted, and seated upon
knees like a child, and she felt that some one was looking at her. Then
came a voice, one that she never heard before, yet with which she was
as familiar as with the sound of the blowing wind. And the voice said,
"Poor child! something has closed the valve between her heart and
mine." With that came a pang of intense pain. But it was her own cry of
speechless delight that woke her from her dream.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE HUMAN SACRIFICE.

The same wind that rushed about the funeral of William Marston in the
old churchyard of Testbridge, howled in the roofless hall and ruined
tower of Durnmelling, and dashed against the plate-glass windows of the
dining-room, where the three ladies sat at lunch. Immediately it was
over, Lady Malice rose, saying:

"Hesper, I want a word with you. Come to my room."

Hesper obeyed, with calmness, but without a doubt that evil awaited her
there. To that room she had never been summoned for anything she could
call good. And indeed she knew well enough what evil it was that to-day
played the Minotaur. When they reached the boudoir, rightly so called,
for it was more in use for _sulking_ than for anything else, Lady
Margaret, with back as straight as the door she had just closed, led
the way to the fire, and, seating herself, motioned Hesper to a chair.
Hesper again obeyed, looking as unconcerned as if she cared for nothing
in this world or in any other. Would we were all as strong to suppress
hate and fear and anxiety as some ladies are to suppress all show of
them! Such a woman looks to me like an automaton, in which a human
soul, somewhere concealed, tries to play a good game of life, and makes
a sad mess of it.

"Well, Hesper, what do you think?" said her mother, with a dull attempt
at gayety, which could nowise impose upon the experience of her
daughter.

"I think nothing, mamma," drawled Hesper.

"Mr. Redmain has come to the point at last, my dear child."

"What point, mamma?"

"He had a private interview with your father this morning."

"Indeed!"

"Foolish girl! you think to tease me by pretending indifference!"

"How can a fact be pr