“I could never have done it with that minx of a girl tacked on to my heels,” he said to himself; “but she shall show me the inside of the house whenever she likes—and now to sleep, and to keep my astonishing suspicions to myself until they become certainties.” In the morning the man put the key of the postern gate into Hester’s hands. “I found it buried under some rubbish on the floor,” he said. “I’ll be very much obliged if you will take me to see the wing to-night.” Hester, who had slept badly, was delighted to get back the key again, and early that evening, having made a _rendezvous_ in advance with Leah, she took Jacob into the wing. Leah met the pair just outside the mad lady’s sitting-room. “How do you do?” she said, after Hester had formally presented Jacob Short to her notice. “I am sorry that my patient happens to be asleep at this moment, so I cannot take you into her sitting-room.” “I won’t awaken her, and I’d like to see her,” remarked Jacob. Leah shook her head. “It cannot be done,” she said. “If she were to wake it would be as much as my place is worth. You can see the rest of the house, of course.” “Well, thank you for that,” replied Jacob. “It seems an uncommon snug place,” he added, glancing round him as he spoke. “Yes, it is well enough,” replied Leah. “It is to all intents and purposes a little house by itself. Come this way now—I’ll show you the bedrooms first.” Leah was right in saying that the Queen Anne wing was a complete small house. It contained kitchen, scullery, coal cellar, two sitting-rooms and two large airy bedrooms. The little house was well but plainly furnished There was nothing gaudy about it, and the furniture was somewhat old-fashioned; but the whole place had a cheerful and complete air of comfort. “This is my bedroom,” said Leah, “and this is my mistress’s.” She entered one of the large bedrooms as she spoke. “You see this door,” she added: “this communicates with my mistress’s room—come in and I’ll show it to you. See, my mistress has no door to her room, except through mine. There was a door, but Mr. Rowton had it built up when Mrs. Cameron was brought here. We have been obliged to bar the windows, too, and they only open a very little way at the top; but, of course you would not notice that at night. The poor lady has a comfortable room, and, but for the fact that she is really in confinement, all the ordinary luxuries of life.” “Yes, the place seems comfortable,” said Jacob. “I am interested in the insane,” he continued; “I had a sister once who went off her head—they took her to the Bethlehem Asylum, and she did not live very long, poor thing. Her sad case makes me take a sort of liking to all insane people.” “Insanity is a most fascinating subject,” interrupted Hester at that moment. There was a queer light in the strange girl’s eyes. She walked about Mrs. Cameron’s bedroom, prying here, there, and everywhere.