She found that, in spite of her painful wound and her anxiety, she had a very fair appetite for breakfast. She determined that she would get well, as fast as she could, in order to leave this dreadful house and return to her home. She wondered anxiously what poor mamma would say to this last new adventure of hers, more terrible than all the rest. She would not punish her by anger and blame and coldness, surely. Had she not already suffered enough? Poor Aline thought that she was well cured now of her mischievous propensities. After this she would never indulge her willful, thoughtless desires again. She would be as prim and perfect as her sister Effie, whom now she heartily reproached herself for having called a “starched-up old maid.” When she went home again she would beg Effie’s pardon, she was resolved upon that. They would be so frightened, so glad to have her back, they would forgive her for all her wildness and carelessness in the past if she promised never, never to do so again. She lay musing in this wise, remorsefully, when she was suddenly startled from her castle building by a repetition of the terrible shrieks of the day before. The awful sounds woke all the sleeping echoes of the place into dreadful concert. Aline screamed aloud in nervous terror and hid her face in the bed-clothes. Mrs. Griffin bent hurriedly over her. “Do not be frightened, my child,” she said. “I am compelled to leave you for a little while. But I shall lock your door securely. No harm shall come to you again.” She went away, and even though Aline heard the bolt turned carefully in the lock and the key drawn out, she felt terribly afraid that that hideous creature who had assailed her on yesterday, would gain access to her again and complete its murderous work. The cold dews of anguish beaded her white brow as she lay there alone in the beautiful azure room, listening to those wild, unearthly screams. She was afraid to look out from behind the shelter of the silken cover where she had hidden her eyes, fearful that they might be blasted by the sight of the _thing_ that had appeared to her in the parlor yesterday. She thought of the simple cottage home where papa and mamma and Effie and Max were even now bewailing her loss, perhaps, and her heart swelled with passionate longing and regret. Ah, only to be with them again in the safe shelter of home and love! The key clicked softly in the lock again. This time Mr. Delaney entered. He looked very pale and grave, but he carried a delicate basket of fresh flowers in his hand that filled the room with sweetness and beauty. He drew the silken cover gently away from Aline’s face. “Poor child, are you so frightened?” he said, compassionately. “Look up. The cries are hushed now. There is nothing for you to fear.” CHAPTER VIII. The terrible, blood curdling cries that had so startled Aline had, indeed, suddenly ceased. The mysterious mansion had returned to its strange, brooding silence.