eera is asleep under Mr. Locke's chair," Vere observed casually.

"Truly, Cousin Roger, I love the way we are living," she resumed. "It is
very miserable of me, I daresay, not to be more intellectual after all
Father and Mother labored with me. But it is so! I want to live this way
all my life; to be busy, and plan things with Ethan, and make them come
true together."

Under cover of the table she put her hand into Vere's, and silence held
us a little while. I watched Bagheera the cat, who sat beside my chair
staring with unblinking yellow eyes toward the window across the room.
Did I imagine a slight uneasiness in those eyes, a wary readiness in
gathered limbs and muscles bulking under the old cat's scant fur? Now
the tail twitched with a lashing movement.

Presently Bagheera looked away and relaxed. A moment more, and he curled
down, composing himself to sleep.

"You like the place, Phil?" I questioned. "You do not find it lonely
here, or in any way depressing?"

The candor of her surprise told me that no dweller between the worlds
had visited her.

"Cousin Roger? This darling house? Why?"

I passed that question safely, and after a few minutes bade them
good-night. They had a fashion of gazing at one another that made it a
matter of necessary kindness to leave them alone together.

As I made my solitary way upstairs, I will not deny a growing
excitement, or that dread fought with my resolution. Who would keep
tryst with me tonight? The Horror or the lady? Both; as each time
before? If so, which one would come first, and what might be my measure
of success or failure? If some trick were being played upon me, I meant
to pluck it out of the mystery.

The quietly pleasant room received me without a hint of the unusual. I
lighted the lamps and sat down to my work.

The house was still by ten o'clock, all lights out except mine. At
midnight I lay down in the dark, the pomander under my pillow. Whether I
put the gold ball there from sentiment, or from some absurd fancy about
its perfume and mystic carving being somehow a talisman against evil, or
because I feared the trinket might be taken from me during the night, I
should be troubled to answer. I did place it there, and lay lapped in
its sweet odor while the moments dragged past; heavy, slow-footed
moments of strain and dreadful expectation scarcely relieved by a hope
uneasy as fear.

The cock crowed for the first hour; and for the second. I slept, at
last.