MR. W. What a heartless ruffian! How easily he takes it all, and how little he feels for me! How different are our lots! He goes to America: I have to remain here--here, in this awful house, with this dread mystery locked up in a cupboard. If anything happens, it is he who is guilty, and not I; and yet I dare not interfere with his departure, for my only chance depends upon his safe return with the antidote. And how am I to pass the time until he does return? What schemes must I not invent to Emily and the servants to account for the prolonged absence of Mrs. Watmuff! How am I to explain away the continually locked cupboard? There can be no earthly chance for me. Mrs. Watmuff will be missed--will be searched for--will be found--and long before that wretched nephew of mine returns with her restorative, she will be in her grave, and I shall have been hung as her murderer. As these and a thousand other horrible results of my mad act rush through my disordered mind, my brain is on fire, and I feel that I am going mad. One chance, and one only, remains to me. Ferdinand _may_ find the remedy at his hotel: if so, he and my poor wronged wife will want a warm bath. Thank goodness, there is one thing that I can do. I will go and see that the water is hot. (_Exit_ MR. WATMUFF, _door_ R.) (MRS. WATMUFF _appears at door of cupboard_.) MRS. W. Poor conscience-stricken imbecile! Oh! my parents, what must you not have thought during the last half-hour! Teach me in the future how to deal with this most miserable and misguided of men. (WALTER LITHERLAND _and_ EMILY _enter door_ L., _talking_.) WALTER. Yes, Emily, I must say farewell. MRS. W. (_aside_). How! He here again? Now can I learn the real sentiments of these young people. I do not forget the timely warning of the young man, and shall be glad to find that he has been misjudged. My parents, I thank you for the opportunity thus vouchsafed me. (MRS. WATMUFF _retires into the cupboard_.) WALTER (_aside to_ EMILY). It's all right; she's still there; I heard her. (_Aloud._) Let us sit, dearest (_places two chairs close to cupboard_), and I will explain to you all that I mean--all that I feel. EMILY. Walter, I will do so, because I know that our parting is at hand; otherwise, after my dear mother's expressed wish that we should see each other no more, I could not have consented to converse alone with you. WALTER. Your tender allusion to your mother, Emily, makes my task a comparatively easy one. I confess that my object in seeking this interview was that I might, tenderly and devotedly, bid you farewell. EMILY. I knew it. Something in your manner, Walter, told me that it was to be so; and though my heart will break at our parting, I shall know that it is only some wise purpose which induces you to leave me.