Garth was disquieting himself a little over these thoughts while Queenie stole up the little staircase. All was quiet in Emmie's room as she passed; her own was chill and dark as she entered it. Langley had not lighted the candle; she was sitting by the open window looking out at the black, starless night. The rain was falling now, the drops were pattering on the creeper. Queenie gave a little shiver of discomfort at the dreary scene, and thought regretfully of the rocking-chair downstairs. "Have you been in again, Langley?" "Yes; but he will not let me stay or do anything for him; he wants her all to himself for a little, he says. He just let me put things a little comfortable, and as they should be, watching me jealously all the time, and then I came away. Garth must go in by-and-bye, and coax him down." Langley spoke in a tone of forced composure, but her breath was labored, and the hand that touched Queenie's was so damp and cold that the girl absolutely started. "Dear Langley, all this is making you quite ill. Do come down with me; your brother has lighted a fire, and it is so warm and cosy, and we can talk ever so much better there." But Langley refused. "No, no; I must stop here as long as he is shut up in that room. What do I want with warmth and comfort while he is suffering--suffering? and I can do nothing for him--nothing, nothing!" in a voice of such despair that Queenie started. A new light seemed breaking on her. "He asked for you directly, before his wife was sent for, I know. I think he likes you to be with him, Langley; you are old friends, you know." "Yes; I know. He called me to him just now, and we stood together for a long time looking down at the child. His eyes asked me for comfort; but what consolation had I to give him? His wife ought to be there, not I; we both knew that; and then he sent me away." "But you need not have gone." "Could I have stood there taking her place when I know too well what we have been to each other? He was right to send me away, and I was right to go; but oh, Queenie, this night is killing me!" and Langley leant against her so heavily, and her voice sounded so strangely in the darkness, that Queenie was frightened. If she guessed rightly, what utter misery there was locked up in this woman's breast! "You must lie down on my bed; I will not talk to you like this," she said, firmly. And when Langley, faint and exhausted with emotion, offered no resistance, she fetched a thick shawl and folded it round her, and then lighted a candle and administered some sal-volatile. The dim light showed a very ghastly face, and great bright eyes brimful of wretchedness; the somewhat thin lips were trembling with weakness. "Don't look at me, Queenie; don't let me talk. I am not myself to-night; I shall say things I ought not to say." But Queenie only kissed her tenderly, and drew the white face down to her shoulder.