“Some adverse influence is at work,” said Funkelstein, with some vexation.  “What is in that closet?”

So saying he approached the door of the private staircase, and opened it.  They saw him start aside, and a veiled dark figure pass him, cross the library, and go out by another door.

“I have my suspicions,” said Funkelstein, with a rather tremulous voice.

“And your fears too, I think.  Grant it now,” said Mr. Arnold.

“Granted, Mr. Arnold.  Let us go to the drawing-room.”

Just as Margaret had reached the library door at the bottom of the private stair, either a puff of wind from an open loophole window, or some other cause, destroyed the arrangement of the veil, and made it fall quite over her face, She stopped for a moment to readjust it.  She had not quite succeeded, when Funkelstein opened the door.  Without an instant’s hesitation, she let the veil fall, and walked forward.

Mrs. Elton had gone to her own room, on her way to Lady Emily’s.  When she reached the latter, she found Margaret seated as she had left her, by the bedside.  Lady Emily said: 

“I did not miss you, Margaret, half so much as I expected.  But, indeed, you were not many moments gone.  I do not care for that man now.  He can’t hurt me, can he?”

“Certainty not.  I hope he will give you no more trouble either, dear Lady Emily.  But if I might presume to advise you, I would say —­ Get well as soon as you can, and leave this place.”

“Why should I?  You frighten me.  Mr. Arnold is very kind to me.”

“The place quite suits Lady Emily, I am sure, Margaret.”

“But Lady Emily is not so well as when she came.”

“No, but that is not the fault of the place,” said Lady Emily.  “I am sure it is all that horrid man’s doing.”

“How else will you get rid of him, then?  What if he wants to get rid of you?”

“What harm can I be doing him —­ a poor girl like me?”

“I don’t know.  But I fear there is something not right going on.”

“We will tell Mr. Arnold at once,” said Mrs. Elton.

“But what could you tell him, ma’am?  Mr. Arnold is hardly one to listen to your maid’s suspicions.  Dear Lady Emily, you must get well and go.”

“I will try,” said Lady Emily, submissive as a child.

“I think you will be able to get up for a little while tomorrow.”

A tap came to the door.  It was Euphrasia, inquiring after Lady Emily.

“Ask Miss Cameron to come in,” said the invalid.

She entered.  Her manner was much changed —­ was subdued and suffering.

“Dear Miss Cameron, you and I ought to change places.  I am sorry to see you looking so ill,” said Lady Emily.

“I have had a headache all day.  I shall be quite well to-morrow, thank you.”

“I intend to be so too,” said Lady Emily, cheerfully.

After some little talk, Euphra went, holding her hand to her forehead.  Margaret did not look up, all the time she was in the room, but went on busily with her needle.