He saw her face change.  It crimsoned darkly.

“Has he told you that?” she muttered.

“Yes, he has; and he’s awfully upset about it, Miss Bubbles.”

“I suppose I had better see him.  I shall have to see him some time.”

She said the words between her teeth, and, making an effort, she sat up in bed.

Dr. Panton went to the door, and opened it.

“Come in,” he called out; “but don’t stay long, Varick.  Miss Bubbles is very tired to-night.”

Varick came in slowly and advanced with curiously hesitating, nervous steps, towards the bed.  “Well, Bubbles,” he exclaimed, “I’m glad you’re no worse for your ducking!”

She looked at him fixedly, but said nothing.  Dr. Panton began to feel desperately uncomfortable.

“I hope you’ll be quite all right to-morrow,” went on Varick.

“I think I shall, thank you.”

Bubbles seemed to be looking beyond her visitor—­not at him.  She seemed to be gazing at something at the other end of the room.

“You’ve brought someone in with you,” she said suddenly.  There was a curious tone—­almost a tone of exultation—­in her voice.  “Who is it?” she asked imperiously.  “Tell me who it is—­Lionel.”

She very rarely called Varick “Lionel.”

He wheeled round with a startled look.  “There’s no one here,” he answered, “but Dr. Panton and myself.”

“Oh yes, there is.”  Bubbles spoke very positively.  “There’s a woman here.  I can see her quite distinctly in the firelight.  She’s got a fat, angry face, and untidy grey hair.  Hullo, she’s gone now!”

Bubbles fell back on to her pillow and closed her eyes.  It was as if she was dismissing them.

Varick turned uneasily to the doctor.  “Is she delirious?” he whispered.

The doctor shook his head.  He also was startled—­startled more than surprised.  For in just Bubbles’ words would he have described the odious woman who had come to see him last spring, and whose voice he had heard within the last few minutes.

He now had no doubt that Miss Pigchalke had been in the corridor, or, more likely, in some room opening out of it, and that she had followed Varick into this darkened room and then, noiselessly, slipped out again.

Bubbles opened her eyes.

“I’ll come up after dinner for a few minutes,” said Dr. Panton.  Bubbles made no answer; her eyes were now following Varick out of the door.

The doctor lingered for a moment.  “You’re sure there was someone there?” he asked.

“Of course I’m sure.”  Bubbles spoke quite positively.  “I’m sure”—­and then he saw a change come over her face—­“and yet I don’t know that I am quite sure,” she murmured dreamily.

As Dr. Panton went down the shallow oak staircase he felt in a turmoil of doubt and discomfort.  To his mind there was no reasonable doubt that Miss Pigchalke had somehow effected an entrance to Wyndfell Hall.  She had lived there for long years; she must know every corner of the strange old house.