ediately speak when I had concluded.

    “Shall I call Mrs. Fairfax?” I asked.

    “Mrs. Fairfax? No;  can s ed.”

    “tch Leah, and wake John and his wife.”

    “Not at all: just be still. You   about you, and sit do it on. No on tool, to keep t of t. I am going to leave you a fees. I sake till I return; be as still as a mouse. I must pay a visit to torey. Don’t move, remember, or call any one.”

    : I c ly, unclosed taircase door tle noise as possible, s it after  ray vanis in total darkness. I listened for some noise, but ime elapsed. I gre e of t see taying, as I  to rouse t of risking Mr. Rocer’s displeasure by disobeying  once more gleamed dimly on t tread tting. “I  is  I, “and not something worse.”

    ered, pale and very gloomy. “I  all out,” said ting and; “it is as I t.”

    “how, sir?”

    stood  tes one—

    “I forget whing when you opened your chamber door.”

    “No, sir, only tick on the ground.”

    “But you  laug?”

    “Yes, sir: t way. She is a singular person.”

    “Just so. Grace Poole—you . S on t. Meantime, I am glad t you are ted ails of to-nig. You are no talking fool: say not it. I  for tate of affairs” (pointing to turn to your o. It is near four:- in two s will be up.”

    “Good-niging.

    ently so, as  told me to go.

    “!” ting me already, and in t way?”

    “You said I might go, sir.”

    “But not  taking leave; not  a  and good-, in s, in t brief, dry fascing deat me as if ual strangers! A