She had gone no farther than the landing when a sound of unsteady footsteps on the stairs caused her to stop.  As she lifted the lamp and looked up, she saw a strange woman descending toward her, holding the balustrade, and moving as though with pains in her limbs.  This woman, whose black hair fell nearly to her waist, was dressed in a crimson satin dressing-gown, warmly padded, and much stained and splashed.  She had fine dark eyes, and was young, bold-looking, and handsome; but when she came nearer, the moist pallor of her skin, the slackness of her lower lip and jaw, and an eager and worn expression in her fine eyes, gave her a thirsty, reckless leer that filled Marian with loathing.  Her aspect conveyed the same painful suggestion as her voice had done before, but more definitely; for it struck Marian, with a shock, that Conolly, in the grotesque metamorphosis of a nightmare, might appear in some such likeness.  The lamp did not seem to attract her attention at first; but when she came within a few steps, she saw some one before her, and, dazzled by the light, peered at Marian, who lost her presence of mind, and stood motionless.  Gradually the woman’s expression changed to one of astonishment.  She came down to the landing; stopped, grasping the handrail to steady herself; and said in her husky voice: 

“Oh, Lord!  It’s not a woman at all.  It’s D. Ts.”  Then, not quite convinced by this explanation, she suddenly stretched out her hand and attempted to grasp Marian’s arm.  Missing her aim, she touched her on the breast, and immediately cried, “Mrs. Ned!”

Marian shrank from her touch, and recovered her courage.

“Do you know me?” she said.

“I should rather think I do.  I have gone off a good deal in my appearance, or you would know me.  Youve seen me on the stage, I suppose.  I’m your sister-in-law.  Perhaps you didnt know you had one.”

“Are you Miss Susanna Conolly?”

“Thats who I am.  At least I am what is left of Miss Susanna.  You dont look overjoyed to make my acquaintance; but I was as good-looking as you once.  Take my advice, Mrs. Ned:  dont drink champagne.  The end of champagne is brandy; and the end of brandy is——­” Susanna made a grimace and indicated herself.

“I am afraid we shall disturb the house if we talk here.  We had better say good-night.”

“No, no.  Dont be in such a hurry to get rid of me.  Come into my room with me for a while.  I’ll talk quietly:  I’m not drunk.  Ive just slept it off; and I was coming down for some more.  You may as well keep me from it for a few minutes.  I suppose Ned hasnt forbidden you to speak to me.”

“Oh, no,” said Marian, yielding to a feeling of pity.  “Come into my room.  There is a scrap of fire there still.”

“We used to lodge in this room long ago, in my father’s time,” said Susanna, following Marian into the room, and reclining with a groan on the sofa.  “I’m rather in a fog, you know:  I cant make out how the deuce you come to be here.  Did Ned send you to look after me?  Is he in New York?  Is he here?”