"Impossible or possible, Miss Hereford, Lady Chandos it was," she answered, in a resolute tone. "I can tell you I rubbed my eyes when I caught sight of her, believing they must see things that were not. She wore a black silk cloak, and had a black hood over her head. It was certainly Lady Chandos; she seemed to be walking to take the air." To hear that any lady, bed-ridden, as may be said, was suddenly walking abroad in a damp, dark night to take the air, was nearly unbelievable. It was quite so to Lizzy Dene. Her eyes grew round with wonder as they were turned on Mrs. Penn. "Then I say with Miss here that it's just impossible. My lady's no more capable of walking out, ma'am, than——" "I tell you I saw her," conclusively interrupted Mrs. Penn. "It was twenty minutes ago, at the turn from dusk to dark. I came and sat down here, waiting for her to pass me: which she has not done. But I suppose there are other paths by which she could gain the house. Lizzy, how obstinate you look over it!" "And enough to make me, ma'am; when I know that my lady it _could not be_." "Do you see much of her?" asked Mrs. Penn. "Me! Neither me nor nobody else, ma'am. If ever Hill calls me to help with a room in the west wing, my lady has first been moved out of it. Since her illness, Hill does the work there herself. No, no; it never was my lady. Unless—unless—oh, goodness, grant it may not be!—unless she's dead!" "Why, what does the girl mean?" cried Mrs. Penn, tartly. Lizzy Dene had suddenly flown into one of her rather frequent phases of superstition, and began to explain with a shivering sob. "It is just this," she whispered, glancing timidly over her shoulder. "Hill was in some distress at mid-day; we servants asked her what was the matter, and she said my lady was worse; as ill as she could be. Now, it is well known, in the moment of death people have appeared to others at a distance. I think my lady must have died, and it was her spirit that Mrs. Penn has just seen in the pine-walk. Oh! ah! oh!" Lizzy Dene wound up with three shrieks. In some curiosity—to say the least of it—we crossed the lawn. It _was_ curious that Lady Chandos, if worse, should be abroad. Hickens was at the hall-door, looking out probably for me. It was past dinner-time. "How is Lady Chandos?" I impulsively asked. "I have not thought to inquire this evening, Miss. I suppose, much as usual." "Isn't she dead?" put in Lizzy. "Dead!" he echoed, staring at the girl. "Anyway there's a basin of arrowroot just gone up for her, and I never heard that dead people could eat. What crotchet have you got in your head now, Lizzy Dene?" I think we all looked a little foolish. Mrs. Penn laughed as she ran in; Lizzy Dene went round to the servants' entrance. "Hickens," I said, in a low tone, passing him to go upstairs, "I have the headache, and shall not take any dinner. Perhaps Harriet will kindly light a bit of fire in my room, and bring me up some tea."