Satisfied as to
this, she came quickly over to the fire, and, kneeling before it,
stretched out her numbed hands to the blaze. Almost on the instant her
wet shroud began to steam. I stood wondering. The precautions of
secrecy in the midst of her suffering--for that she did suffer was only
too painfully manifest--must have presupposed some danger. Then and
there my mind was made up that there should no harm assail her that I by
any means could fend off. Still, the present must be attended to;
pneumonia and other ills stalked behind such a chill as must infallibly
come on her unless precautions were taken. I took again the
dressing-gown which she had worn before and handed it to her, motioning
as I did so towards the screen which had made a dressing-room for her on
the former occasion. To my surprise she hesitated. I waited. She
waited, too, and then laid down the dressing-gown on the edge of the
stone fender. So I spoke:

"Won't you change as you did before? Your--your frock can then be dried. Do! It will be so much safer for you to be dry clad when you resume your
own dress." "How can I whilst you are here?" Her words made me stare, so different were they from her acts of the
other visit. I simply bowed--speech on such a subject would be at least
inadequate--and walked over to the window. Passing behind the curtain, I
opened the window. Before stepping out on to the terrace, I looked into
the room and said:

"Take your own time. There is no hurry. I dare say you will find there
all you may want. I shall remain on the terrace until you summon me." With that I went out on the terrace, drawing close the glass door behind
me. I stood looking out on the dreary scene for what seemed a very short
time, my mind in a whirl. There came a rustle from within, and I saw a
dark brown figure steal round the edge of the curtain. A white hand was
raised, and beckoned me to come in. I entered, bolting the window behind
me. She had passed across the room, and was again kneeling before the
fire with her hands outstretched. The shroud was laid in partially
opened folds on one side of the hearth, and was steaming heavily. I
brought over some cushions and pillows, and made a little pile of them
beside her. "Sit there," I said, "and rest quietly in the heat." It may have been
the effect of the glowing heat, but there was a rich colour in her face
as she looked at me with shining eyes. Without a word, but with a
courteous little bow, she sat down at once. I put a thick rug across her
shoulders, and sat down myself on a stool a couple of feet away. For fully five or six minutes we sat in silence. At last, turning her
head towards me she said in a sweet, low voice:

"I had intended coming earlier on purpose to thank you for your very
sweet and gracious courtesy to me, but circumstances were such that I
could not leave my--my"--she hesitated before saying--"my abode. I am
not free, as you and others are, to do what I will. My existence is
sadly cold and stern, and full of horrors that appal. But I _do_ thank
you. For myself I am not sorry for the delay, for every hour shows me
more clearly how good and understanding and sympathetic you have been to
me. I only hope that some day you may realize how kind you have been,
and how much I appreciate it." "I am only too glad to be of any service," I said, feebly I felt, as I
held out my hand. She did not seem to see it. Her eyes were now on the
fire, and a warm blush dyed forehead and cheek and neck. The reproof was
so gentle that no one could have been offended. It was evident that she
was something coy and reticent, and would not allow me to come at present
more close to her, even to the touching of her hand. But that her heart
was not in the denial was also evident in the glance from her glorious
dark starry eyes. These glances--veritable lightning flashes coming
through her pronounced reserve--finished entirely any wavering there
might be in my own purpose. I was aware now to the full that my heart
was quite subjugated. I knew that I was in love--veritably so much in
love as to feel that without this woman, be she what she might, by my
side my future must be absolutely barren. It was presently apparent that she did not mean to stay as long on this
occasion as on the last. When the castle clock struck midnight she
suddenly sprang to her feet with a bound, saying:

"I must go! There is midnight!" I rose at once, the intensity of her
speech having instantly obliterated the sleep which, under the influence
of rest and warmth, was creeping upon me. Once more she was in a frenzy
of haste, so I hurried towards the window, but as I looked back saw her,
despite her haste, still standing. I motioned towards the screen, and
slipping behind the curtain, opened the window and went out on the
terrace. As I was disappearing behind the curtain I saw her with the
tail of my eye lifting the shroud, now dry, from the hearth. She was out through the window in an incredibly short time, now clothed
once more in that dreadful wrapping. As she sped past me barefooted on
the wet, chilly marble which made her shudder, she whispered:

"Thank you again. You _are_ good to me. You can understand." Once again I stood on the terrace, saw her melt like a shadow down the
steps, and disappear behind the nearest shrub. Thence she flitted away
from point to point with exceeding haste. The moonlight had now
disappeared behind heavy banks of cloud, so there was little light to see
by. I could just distinguish a pale gleam here and there as she wended
her secret way. For a long time I stood there alone thinking, as I watched the course she
had taken, and wondering where might be her ultimate destination. As she
had spoken of her "abode," I knew there was some definitive objective of
her flight. It was no use wondering. I was so entirely ignorant of her surroundings
that I had not even a starting-place for speculation. So I went in,
leaving the window open. It seemed that this being so made one barrier
the less between us. I gathered the cushions and rugs from before the
fire, which was no longer leaping, but burning with a steady glow, and
put them back in their places. Aunt Janet might come in the morning, as
she had done before, and I did not wish to set her thinking. She is much
too clever a person to have treading on the heels of a
mystery--especially one in which my own affections are engaged. I wonder
what she would have said had she seen me kiss the cushion on which my
beautiful guest's head had rested? When I was in bed, and in the dark save for the fading glow of the fire,
my thoughts became fixed that whether she came from Earth or Heaven or
Hell, my lovely visitor was already more to me than aught else in the
world. This time she had, on going, said no word of returning. I had
been so much taken up with her presence, and so upset by her abrupt
departure, that I had omitted to ask her.