"Yes; they took me for my own ghost," he resumed, apparently not having heard the remark. "You now perceive, possibly, why I have told you this Miss Hereford? You would not be likely to adopt the ghostly view of the affair, and might have spoken of what you saw in the hearing of the servants, or of strangers. You have now the secret: will you keep it?" "With my whole heart, sir," was my impulsive rejoinder. "No allusion to it shall ever pass my lips." And Mr. Chandos took my hand, held it for a moment, and then departed, leaving me to digest the revelation. It was a strange one and I asked myself whether this physical infirmity, attaching to him, was the cause of what had appeared so mysterious at Chandos. That it might account for their not wishing to have strangers located at Chandos, sleeping in the house, was highly probable. Why! was not I myself an illustration of the case in point? I, a young girl, but a week or so in the house, and it had already become expedient to entrust me with the secret! Oh, yes! no wonder, no wonder that they shunned visitors at Chandos! To me it seemed a most awful affliction. As I quitted the oak parlour and went upstairs, Hill stood in the gallery. "Lady Chandos is up, I understand, Hill?" "Well, I don't know where you could have understood that," was Hill's rejoinder, spoken in a sullen and resentful tone. "My lady up, indeed! ill as she is! If she's out of her bed, in a week hence it will be time enough. _I_ don't think she will be." I declare that the words so astonished me as to take my senses temporarily away, and Hill was gone before I could speak again. Which of the two told the truth, Mr. Chandos or Hill? He said his mother was up; Hill said she was not, and would not be for a week to come. Meanwhile Hill had traversed the gallery, and disappeared in the west wing, banging the green-baize door after her. I stood in deliberation. Ought I, or ought I not, to proffer a visit to Lady Chandos?—to inquire if I could do anything for her. It seemed to me that it would be respectful so to do, and I moved forward and knocked gently at the green-baize door. There came no answer, and I knocked again—and again; softly always. Then I pushed it open and entered. I found myself in a narrow passage, richly carpeted, with a handsome oak door before me. I gave a stout knock at that, and the green-baize door made a noise in swinging to. Out rushed Hill. If ever terror was implanted in a woman's face, it was so then in hers. "Heaven and earth, Miss Hereford! Do you want to send me into my grave with fright?" ejaculated she. "I have not frightened you! What have I done?" "Done? Do you know, Miss, that no soul is permitted to enter these apartments when my lady is ill, except myself and Mr. Chandos? I knew it was not he; and thought—I thought—I don't know what I did not think. Be so good, Miss, as not to serve me so again."