She did not wake with the jar of his entrance. It was as profound a sleep as Felix had ever seen. One hand supported a pale cheek, the other lay carelessly on a shawl which half-covered her. The eyes were closed, the brow peaceful. Felix shut the door softly, and stood gazing. He did not know what had brought her there, and at the moment, he did not much care. There she was, and his sense of solitude was gone. It was enough for him to stand and look. Presently, he brought a chair to her side, moving with great caution, and sat down, to continue watching. The extreme quiet of her face was entering into him, invading the cold crust which had been building itself around his heart. For that was a living quiet, not a frozen stillness. It had in it warmth and life underlying. The parted lips—not dropping open, but just parted—were full of sweetness. Sometimes the brow became dented, as if with some kind of pain or distress; and then another wave of calm would smooth it out. Felix wondered if she were dreaming. Perhaps the steadfastness of his gaze disturbed her, for the troubled look recurred. She stirred restlessly, and her lips grew sorrowful. "I did not do it!" she said aloud. "It is so cruel! I did not take the money!" Her eyes opened, and looked full at Felix. "Tell them I didn't! O please, please believe me!" Then she slept again, but no longer profoundly. The restless movements continued, and she clenched her hand. "Please believe me! Please believe me! I did not take it! . . . Sissie would believe me! Sissie would know! O Felix! O Felix, take care of me!" The last words were cried out sharply, in a voice of fear, and the open eyes again gazed blankly. Felix had not for years been so stirred. The personal appeal went home, for it seemed that in trouble she had habitually turned to the thought of her brother. Somehow he had never pictured Lettice as needing help. He had been content to take it for granted that all was right in that quarter, since she did not complain. "Wake up!" he said. "You're only dreaming. Nothing is wrong. See—I'm here! And there's nobody going to touch you." "Felix! Oh, don't let them have me!" She clang to him, confused still with the sudden awakening, and scarcely conscious of her whereabouts. He could feel the quick beating of her heart against him. "But what is it all about?" he asked. "Why are you so frightened? Nobody's in the room except ourselves. Who did you think was going to take you?" A sigh of relief came. "It must have been a dream. But it did seem so real." "Well, here you are, safe and sound! I don't know yet why you have come, only I know you are in no danger from anybody." "I thought they were taking me to prison—because of the bank-note. And Mrs. Bryant looked so dreadful. I wanted to scream, and I could not. It was like a sort of nightmare." "You did call out pretty loud. What is that about a bank-note?"