"Frightened?"

"Yes. I am afraid of that girl, Margaret."

"What girl? You cannot possibly mean Grace?"

Mrs. Peyton glanced around her. Evidently she did mean Grace.

"She behaves so!" she said, in a low voice. "I don't think she is in her
right mind, to begin with; it is terrible to be with a person who may
break out into madness at any moment."

"My dear," said Margaret, "you are absolutely and wholly mistaken. Grace
is as sane as I am. She is one of the sanest persons I have ever known,
it seems to me. Of course she is singular--eccentric, if you like. But
what has she been doing, to disturb you so?"

Mrs. Peyton glanced around her again, with an apprehensive glance.
"Well!" she said, "I--I suppose I may as well tell you, Margaret. I have
been ill so long, I may have become--a little unreasonable. There is
nobody who cares; I never saw any reason why I should be reasonable.
Having to lie here, it is a pity if I may not have my own way, don't you
think so? I have had it, at any rate; I don't say that it has always
been a sensible way; I detest sensible things and people. I can't
imagine how I have endured you so long. I should not, if you were not
pretty and prim."

"Thank you!" said Margaret, soberly.

"Don't interrupt me! This has been on my mind for two weeks, and I want
to get rid of it. There is nobody else I can tell. Doctor Flower, like
a veritable fiend, after sending me this firebrand, goes off to Europe.
A physician should be indicted for going to Europe. Well--I don't know
what to tell you, or where to begin. She--she frightens me, I say. I
never know what she is going to do next. Yesterday--I felt wretchedly
yesterday, Margaret; I was in acute pain all day. I suppose I was pretty
impatient. I--well, I threw something out of the window in a pet,--my
amethyst rope it was,--and she stood and looked at me quietly, as if she
were taking notes of my appearance. I couldn't bear it; I told her to go
after it. Just a little impatient cry, it was. My dear, in an instant
she was out of the window. Gone, out of sight like a flash. I shrieked;
no one heard me. I--you will not believe this, Margaret--I got out of
bed, and dragged myself to the window, expecting to see her dead and
shattered at the bottom. There she stood, cool as crystal, shaking the
leaves from her dress. She looked up and saw me, and if ever I saw an
elfish look--do you believe in witchcraft, Margaret? my nurse did; she
told me some stran