"Servant," said Huish laconically. "Won't make you jealous, eh?" "John," she whispered back in a pained voice; "why do you speak to me like that?" "Oh, it's only my way," he said flippantly. "Come along." They went up farther, and, reaching the second floor, Huish threw open the door of a comfortable, well-lit room, and drew her in, hastily opened the door of communication with the next room, satisfied himself that it was empty, went on and locked the farther door leading out to the landing, and returned. "There," he said; "you will be safe here." "Oh yes, John dear," she said, gazing at him wonderingly, "his manner seemed so strange; but I am so anxious to know." "Yes, yes; all in good time, dear," he cried. "There, off with that hat and jacket. Why, my dear," he cried, "you look lovely!" There was a hot red spot in his cheeks as he spoke in a curiously excited way, and Gertrude felt a strange sense of shrinking as he hastily snatched away her jacket, threw it on a chair, and clasped her in his arms. "John," she cried, struggling to free herself, "look! look!" He loosed his grasp and turned suddenly upon a figure which stood right in the doorway, that of a tall handsome woman, looking ghastly pale, and her great eyes dilated with rage and surprise. She had evidently risen from a sick couch, and wore a long loose white dressing-gown, which, with her long dark hair flowing over her shoulders, gave her an almost supernatural look, heightened by the silence in which she gazed from one to another. "What are you doing here?" cried Huish sharply. "I thought you were in bed--ill." "I was," replied the woman slowly, "till I heard you return." "Go back to it then," he said brutally; "why do you come here?" Gertrude shrank back towards the couch, as the woman slowly entered, with her eyes fixed fiercely upon her, and the door swung to. "Who is this?" she cried, in a low angry voice. "Take no notice of her. I will get her away," whispered Huish, crossing to Gertrude's side. "She is mad!" "No, girl, I am not mad," said the woman sternly; for her hearing seemed to have been sharpened by her illness, and she had heard every word. "John Huish," she said sternly, "answer me--who is this?" Gertrude's eyes dilated with horror. She was confused and startled. She could not comprehend her position or why they were there; and as the recollection of the happy evening she had spent came to mingle with the chaos of fancies and surmises that bewildered her brain, it seemed to her like some strange nightmare, from which she felt that she would soon awake into peace and repose. To make the scene more impressive, the heavy, deep booming of a clock striking midnight floated into the room with a strange jangle of other bells, some slow, some hurried, all bent on proclaiming the same fact-- that another day was dead, another being born. As the woman repeated her question, Huish's eyes grew dark with rage, and he pointed to the door.