"Yes; go mad--I can't help it. I'm worried enough about the disappearance of my poor brother Arthur; then I am forsaken in the most cruel way by my husband; and as if that was not enough, and just when I am imagining him to be suffering from fever, or crocodiles, or Malay people, or being drowned, that dreadful woman comes and torments me almost to death." "What, Mrs Barlow? Well, but surely, if you give her a hint--" "Give her a hint, Captain Hilton! I've asked her to go over and over again; I've ordered her to go--but it's of no use. She comes back and cries all over me in the most dreadful way." "But why?--what about?" "She has got a preposterous notion in her head that she is in love with my poor brother, and that he was very much attached to her because he called upon her once or twice. It's really dreadful, for I don't believe my brother ever gave her a thought." "You must reason with her, Mrs Bolter," said Hilton, who could not help feeling amused. "It is of no use: I've tried, and all I get for my pains is the declaration that she must give me the love that she meant for my brother. She says she shall make her will and leave all to me, for she shall die soon; and the way in which she goes on is horrible." "Well, it must be a nuisance where you don't care for a person," said Hilton. "Nuisance: it's unbearable! And now I'm talking to you about it, and very absurd you must think me; but if I didn't relieve my mind to somebody I'm sure I should go mad. But won't you come into the drawing-room?" "Certainly," said Hilton. "I came out here to speak to her," continued little Mrs Bolter; "because if she gets into my little drawing-room, she takes a seat, and I can never get her out again. Perhaps," she whispered, "she'll go as soon as she has said all she wants to Mr Harley." Hilton followed the little troubled body into the drawing-room, and then started and turned hot as he saw Grey Stuart rise to her feet, and stand there, looking deadly pale. "Miss Stuart!" he exclaimed. She made an effort to control herself, but her strength was not superhuman; and coming forward, she took Hilton's extended hand, looked at him with her lips quivering, and then burst into a loud fit of sobbing. "We thought you dead," she said, in an excited manner. "Pray forgive me. It is so weak. But Helen?" "We have great hopes of rescuing her," said Hilton, whose heart was beating fast, as he asked himself what this emotion really meant. Then he cooled down and felt hurt, for he told himself that her last words explained it. Helen Perowne and she had been schoolfellows, and he had disappeared at the same time; now he had returned, but without Helen, and his appearance was a shock to her.