At sunset of that day, as nurse and I sat near the dressing-room window, watching the slant rays flickering on the sward, and the rooks alighting and swinging over their noisy nests, a black cloud hung for a moment just above the sun, a black cloud with a vivid edge of gold. It tempered the light in a peculiar manner, and seemed to throw it downwards. Peering through my fingers at it, for it was very beautiful, I saw a whitish mist or vapour steaming and hovering above the disk of the setting sun, between my eyes and that golden marge. I wondered what this could be; there was no heat to cause strong evaporation, nor any mist or dewy haze about, nor was the sun "drawing water." But what I saw was like that trembling twinkle of the air, which we often observe on a meadow footpath in the hot forenoon of July. I drew Jane’s attention to it, not expecting any solution, but just for something to say. "Dear me, Miss, don’t you know what that is? I see it every evening; it will be twice as plain when the sun goes down, and then it will be quite white." "Well, what is it? Why can’t you tell me? Is everything here a secret?" I was rather irritable, but vexed with myself for being so. Too much excitement and too little sleep were the causes. "No, Miss, there’s no secret at all about that. Every one knows what that is. It’s only the scum that rises through the grass from the arched pool that takes all the drains of the house. Some of the arch fell in they say, and the ground shakes when they mow it; they are afraid to roll there." "Is it possible? And you knew it, a practised nurse like you! Did my uncle know it?" "I am sure, Miss, I can’t tell: most likely not, or he would have had it mended, he hates things out of repair. But it can’t do any harm, with the mould and the grass above it." "Can’t it indeed? And you can see it rise. Shut all the bedroom windows in a moment, Jane. I’ll shut this." She thought my wits were wandering, from what I had gone through; nevertheless she obeyed me. It happened that I had attended, at Isola’s urgent request, one lecture of the many delivered by Dr. Ross. She forgot what the subject was to be. It proved to be an unsavoury and "unlady-like" one--Mephitis. Isola wanted to run away, but I have none of that nonsense about me, when human life is concerned, and listened with great attention, and even admiration; for he handled the matter eloquently and well. "Now, Jane, throw all the doors open, and the lobby window that looks in the other direction. When do you think it will be possible to move our poor patient from these rooms? The air here is deadly poison." "Well I’m sure, Miss! And he couldn’t have a nicer nor a more airy room; and all my things in order too, and so handy, and so many cupboards!" "Out of this poison he must go. When can he be moved?" "Well, Miss, he might be moved to-morrow, if we could only get plenty of hands, and do it cleverly."