‘Emily, Emily! Stop! You don’t know what you’re talking about. That girl is a fool: you must send her away. That is, how could the lady have got in if the door was closed? Good heavens! you’ll all drive me mad between you with your folly!’ exclaimed Mr Braggett, as he threw himself back in his chair, with an exclamation that sounded very like a groan. Pretty Mrs Braggett was offended. What had she said or done that her husband should doubt her word? She tossed her head in indignation, and remained silent. If Mr Braggett wanted any further information, he would have to apologise. ‘Forgive me, darling,’ he said, after a long pause. ‘I don’t think I’m very well this evening, but your story seemed to upset me.’ ‘I don’t see why it should upset you,’ returned Mrs Braggett. ‘If strangers are allowed to come prowling about the house in this way, we shall be robbed some day, and then you’ll say I should have told you of it.’ ‘Wouldn’t she—this person—give her name?’ ‘Oh! I’d rather say no more about it. You had better ask Ellen.’ ‘No, Emily! I’d rather hear it from you.’ ‘Well, don’t interrupt me again, then. When Ellen saw the woman seated here, she asked her her name and business at once, but she gave no answer, and only sat and stared at her. And so Ellen, feeling very uncomfortable, had just turned round to call up cook, when the woman got up, and dashed past her like a flash of lightning, and they saw nothing more of her!’ ‘Which way did she leave the house?’ ‘Nobody knows any more than how she came in. The servants declare the hall-door was neither opened nor shut—but, of course, it must have been. She was a tall gaunt woman, Ellen says, about fifty, and she’s sure her hair was dyed. She must have come to steal something, and that’s why I say we ought to have the house made more secure. Why, Siggy! Siggy! what’s the matter? Here, Ellen! Jane! come, quick, some of you! Your master’s fainted!’ And, sure enough, the repeated shocks and horrors of the day had had such an effect upon poor Mr Braggett, that for a moment he did lose all consciousness of what surrounded him. He was thankful to take advantage of the Christmas holidays, to run over to Paris with his wife, and try to forget, in the many marvels of that city, the awful fear that fastened upon him at the mention of anything connected with home. He might be enjoying himself to the top of his bent; but directly the remembrance of Charlotte Cray crossed his mind, all sense of enjoyment vanished, and he trembled at the mere thought of returning to his business, as a child does when sent to bed in the dark. He tried to hide the state of his feelings from Mrs Braggett, but she was too sharp for him. The simple, blushing Emily Primrose had developed, under the influence of the matrimonial forcing-frame, into a good watch-dog, and nothing escaped her notice.