While this intercourse was going on, and Mr. Everard became more and more the associate of the ladies, the little shock that had been given them by the result of Johnny’s excitement on the night of the accident grew into something definite and rather alarming. Johnny was not ill--so far as appeared, he was not even frightened; but he continued to see “the lady” from time to time, and more than once a cry from the room in which he slept had summoned Rosalind, and even Mrs. Lennox, forgetful of her rheumatism. On these occasions Johnny would be found sitting up in his bed, his great eyes like two lamps, shining even in the dim glow of the night-light. It was at an hour when he should have been asleep, when nurse had gone to her supper, and to that needful relaxation which nurses as well as other mortals require. The child was not frightened, but there was a certain excitement about this periodical awakening. “The lady! the lady!” he said. “Oh, my darling,” cried Aunt Sophy, trembling; “what lady? There could be no lady. You have been dreaming. Go to sleep, Johnny, and think of it no more.” “I sawed her,” cried the child. He pushed away Mrs. Lennox and clung to Rosalind, who had her arms round him holding him fast. “I never was asleep at all, Rosy; I just closed my eyes, and then I opened them and I sawed the lady.” “Oh, Rosalind, he has just been dreaming. Oh, Johnny dear, that is all nonsense; there was no lady!” Aunt Sophy cried. “Tell me about her,” said Rosalind. “Was it a strange lady? Did you know who she was?” “It is just _the_ lady,” cried Johnny, impatiently. “I told you before. She is much more taller than Aunt Sophy, with a black thing over her head. She wouldn’t stay, because you came running, and she didn’t want you. But I want the lady to speak to me-- I want her to speak to me. Go away, Rosy!” the little fellow cried. “Dear, the lady will not come back again to-night. Tell me about her. Johnny, did you know who she was?” “I told you: she’s just _the_ lady,” cried Johnny, with the air of one whose explanation leaves nothing to be desired. “Oh, Rosalind, you are just encouraging him in his nonsense. He was dreaming. My darling, you were dreaming. Nurse, here is this little boy been dreaming again about the lady, as he calls her. You must give him a dose. He must have got his little digestion all wrong. It can be nothing but that, you know,” Aunt Sophy said. She drew the nurse, who had hastened up from her hour’s relaxation in alarm, with her into the outer room. Mrs. Lennox herself was trembling. She clutched the woman’s arm with a nervous grasp. “What does he mean about this lady? Is there any story about a lady? I am quite sure it is all nonsense, or that it is just a dream,” said Mrs. Lennox, with a nervous flutter in the bow of her cap. “Is there any story (though it is all nonsense) of a haunted room or anything of that sort? If there is, I sha’n’t stay here, not another day.”