She stared at me for a moment as though my words held some hope for her; then she turned her back on me and went on rocking herself.  ‘Too late!’ I heard her mutter:  ‘I cannot be good without him.’  And, with a strange sinking of heart, I left the room.

She could bring him to my feet with a word.  Was this the truth, or only an idle boast?  No matter; I would not owe even his love to this woman.  ‘I can live without you, Giles,—­my Giles,’ I whispered; but hot tears burnt my cheeks as I spoke.

In the afternoon I saw Miss Darrell pacing up and down the asphalt walk.  Gladys saw her too, and turned away from the window rather nervously.  ‘How restless Etta seems!’ she said once; but I made no answer.  Towards evening I heard her footsteps perambulating the long passage, and softly turned the key in the lock without Gladys noticing the movement.  Gladys noticed very little in that sweet dreamy mood that had come to her; her own thoughts occupied her; her lover’s letter had more than contented her.

About ten o’clock I went in search of Chatty, and came face to face with Miss Darrell.  She was in her crumpled yellow dressing-gown, and her dark hair hung over her shoulders; her eyes looked bright and strange.  I moved back a step and laid my hand on the handle.

She greeted this action with a disagreeable laugh.

’I suppose you heard me trying the door just now.  Yes, I wanted to see Gladys; I wished to make some one feel as wretched as I do myself; but you were too quick for me.  Do you always keep your patients under lock and key?’

‘Sometimes,’ laconically, for I disliked her manner more than ever to-night:  it was not the first time that I had fancied that she had had recourse to some form of narcotic.  ’Why do you not go to bed, Miss Darrell?’

’Perhaps I shall when I have thoroughly tired myself.  These passages have rather a ghastly look:  they remind me of Leah, too,’ with a shudder.  ’Good-night, Miss Garston; pleasant dreams to you.  I suppose you have not thought better of what I said about Giles?’

‘No, certainly not,’ retreating into my room and locking the door in a panic.  I heard a husky laugh answer me.  Perhaps last night’s watching had tired my nerves, for it was long before I could compose myself to sleep.

The night passed quietly, and I woke, refreshed, to the sound of summer rain pattering on the shrubs.  The little oak avenue looked wet and dreary; but no amount of rain or outward dreariness could damp me, with the expectation of Mr. Hamilton’s return; and I helped Chatty arrange our rooms with great cheerfulness.

He came back earlier than I expected.  I had hardly finished settling Gladys for the day,—­she took great pains with her toilet now, and was hard to please in the matter of ruffles and ornaments,—­when Chatty told me that he wished to speak to me a moment.

I made some excuse and joined him without delay.  He looked much as he had the previous morning,—­very worn and tired, and his eyes a little sunken; but he greeted me quietly, and even kindly; he asked me if I felt better, and how Gladys was.  I was rather ashamed of my nervous manner of answering, but that odious speech of Miss Darrell would come into my mind when he looked at me.