Irresolute as to my next action, I passed out into the upper hall. It was deserted and strangely silent, seemingly far removed from all those terrible scenes so lately enacted in the rooms beneath. My head by this time throbbed with pain; I desired to be alone, to think, to map out my future course before proceeding down the stairs to meet the others. With this in view I sank down in complete weariness upon a convenient settee. I could hear the sound of muffled voices below, while an occasional order was spoken loud enough to reach me; but I was utterly alone, and my thoughts wandered, as though the strain of the past few hours had completely wrecked all my mental faculties. It was Edith Brennan--Edith Brennan--who remained constantly before me, and wherever my eyes wandered they beheld the same fail-face, which tantalized me by its presence and mocked me in every resolve I sought to form. There was no safety for me--and none for her, as I now verily believed--save in my immediate departure. We could be together no longer without my unlocking sealed lips and giving utterance to words she could not listen to, words she must never hear. I was yet struggling to force this decision into action when complete fatigue overcame me. My heavy head sank back upon the arm of the settee, and deep sleep closed my eyes. CHAPTER XXXIV THE WORDS OF LOVE It was in my dreams I felt it first,--a light, moist touch upon my burning forehead,--and I imagined I was a child once more, back at the old home, caressed by the soft hand of my mother. But as consciousness slowly returned I began to realize dimly where I was, and that I was no longer alone. A gentle hand was stroking back the hair from off my temples, while the barest uplift of my eyelids revealed the folds of a dark blue skirt pressed close to my side. Instantly I realized who must be the wearer, and remained motionless until I could better control my first unwise impulse.