e escaped into the roots of the beeches and killed them.

Even if there had been, it does not follow that Miss Dickenson, in full
flight to her own couch, would not have come upon the Earl in the lobby
near Mr. Torrens's quarters, with a candle-lamp in his hand, which he
carried about in nocturnal excursions to make sure that a great
conflagration was not raging somewhere on the premises. He seemed, Miss
Dickenson thought, to be gazing reproachfully at it. It was burning all
right, nevertheless. She wished his lordship good-night, and fancied it
was very late. The Earl appeared sure of it. So did a clock with clear
ideas on the subject, striking midnight somewhere, ponderously. The lady
passed on; not, however, failing to notice that the lamp stopped at a
door on the way, and that its bearer was twice going to knock thereat
and didn't. Then a dog within intimated that he should bark presently,
unless attention was given to an occurrence he could vouch for, which
his master told him to hold his tongue about; calling out "Come in!"
nevertheless, to cover contingencies.

The passer-by connected this with Gwen's behaviour at dinner, and other
little things she had noticed, and meant to lie awake on the chance of
hearing his lordship say good-night to Mr. Torrens, perhaps illuminating
the situation. But resolutions to lie awake are the veriest gossamer,
blown away by the breath that puts the bedside candle out. Miss
Dickenson and Oblivion had joined hands some time when his lordship said
good-night to Mr. Torrens.

He had found him standing at his window, as though the warm night-air
was a luxury to him, in the blue silk dressing-gown he had affected
since his convalescence. There was no light in the room; indeed, light
would have been of no service to him in his state. He did not move, but
said: "I suppose I ought to be thinking of turning in now, Mrs. Bailey?"

"It isn't Mrs. Bailey," said the Earl. "It's me. Gwen's father."

"God bless my soul!" exclaimed Adrian, starting back from the window. "I
thought it was the good creature. I had given you up, Lord Ancester--it
got so late." For his lordship had made a visit of inquiry and a short
chat with this involuntary guest an invariable finish to his daily
programme, since the latter recovered consciousness. "I'm afraid there's
no light in the room," said Adrian. "I told 'Rene to blow the candles
out. I can move about very fairly, you see, but I never feel safe about
knoc