“You must not talk in that way, dear, on any account,” she said.  “You must try to like Lady Chillington; it is to your interest to do so.  But even should you never learn to like her, you must not let anyone know it.”

“I’m sure that I shall like the lady that you call Sister Agnes,” I said.  “When shall I see her?  To-morrow?”

Mrs. Dance looked at me sharply for a moment.  “You think you shall like Sister Agnes, eh?  When you come to know her, you will more than like her; you will love her.  But perhaps Lady Chillington will not allow you to see her.”

“But why not?” I said abruptly, and I could feel my eyes flash with anger.

“The why not I am not at liberty to explain,” said Mrs. Dance, drily.  “And let me tell you, Miss Janet Hope, there are many things under this roof of which no explanation will be given you, and if you are a wise, good girl, you will not ask too many questions.  I tell you this simply for your own good.  Lady Chillington cannot abear people that are always prying and asking ‘What does this mean?’ and ‘What does the other mean?’ A still tongue is the sign of a wise head.”

Ten minutes later I had said my prayers and was in bed.  “Don’t go without kissing me,” I said to Dance as she took up the candle.

The old lady came back and kissed me tenderly.  “Heaven bless you and keep you, my dear!” she said, with solemn dignity.  “There are those in the world who love you very dearly, and some day perhaps you will know all.  I dare not say more.  Good-night, and God bless you.”

Mrs. Dance’s words reached a chord in my heart that vibrated to the slightest touch.  I cried myself silently to sleep.

How long I had been asleep I had no means of knowing, but I was awakened some time in the night by a rain of kisses, soft, warm, and light, on lips, cheeks and forehead.  The room was pitch dark, and for a second or two I thought I was still at Park Hill, and that Miss Chinfeather had come back from heaven to tell me how much she loved me.  But this thought passed away like the slide of a magic lantern, and I knew that I was at Deepley Walls.  The moment I knew this I put out my arms with the intention of clasping my unknown visitor round the neck.  But I was not quick enough.  The kisses ceased, my hands met each other in the empty air, and I heard a faint noise of garments trailing across the floor.  I started up in bed, and called out, in a frightened voice, “Who’s there?”

“Hush! not a word!” whispered a voice out of the darkness.  Then I heard the door of my room softly closed, and I felt that I was alone.