nd, and leaving
Guest and Edie in the gloom of the landing.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

FROM HOPE TO FEAR.

For a few moments nothing was said, and Guest paid no heed to his
companion, but stood bent forward listening for some exclamation of
surprise uttered by Stratton, or a word from Myra.

But all was silent as the grave, and, with his pulses increasing the
rapidity of their beats, he gazed at the faint, narrow streak of light,
almost within reach of his hand, where the edge of the inner door was
within a quarter of an inch of the jamb.

"Ought I to have let her go in alone?" he asked himself. "Ought I not
to have sent in Edie, too--is there any risk?"

Then, quick as lightning, followed thought after thought as to the peril
to which, through his and Edie's scheming, Myra might be exposed; and he
saw himself afterward face to face with father and aunt, bearing the
brunt of their reproaches for what now began to seem a wild escapade.

He was brought back to himself in the midst of the semi-darkness by a
low, catching sigh, and he turned sharply round to see behind him, as in
another frame, the outlined figure of Edie. He took a step toward her
quickly, but she drew back right to the great balustrade of the landing,
and supported herself against it.

"Edie," he whispered, trying to take her hand; but she repulsed him, and
turned her back to look down the opening to the hall.

"Edie," he said again quickly; and this time he caught her hand.

"Don't touch me!" she said in a low, passionate whisper.

"Nonsense, dear! There is no danger, I think. We must not stay here
listening: it would be so unfair. Come and stand in Mr Brettison's
passage. You will be out of the draught and cold."

"Don't touch me, I say," she whispered angrily; and she drew her hand
from his grasp with a sharp snatch.

"Don't be foolish," he said excitedly. "Come along here."

"No--no--no."

"But, Edie, dear!"

"How dare you!" she cried quite aloud.

"Edie! Can you not trust me?" he said reproachfully. "It was for your
sake I spoke. People may be coming up or going down. Let's go back to
Mr Brettison's door."

"No," she said hoarsely; "I will stay here."

"But there is no need," he said gently. "I know what you feel in your
anxiety about Myra; but really there is no need. Come."

He tried to take her hand again, but she recoiled from him so suddenly
that her little hood fell back, and, dim though the staircase landin