Then a wonder crept through her mind; were those two talking still? She might have been any length of time seated there. At the same moment sounded these words: "If Lettice were here—" Lettice neither spoke nor stirred. She was leaning back in a low chair, with closed eyes. "Lettice!" "Asleep, I think," said Mr. Kelly. "I had no idea she was here at all. Lettice!" The absence of response was a matter of positive incapacity to speak. Lettice heard, of course; but voices sounded far-away; and the floor seemed to mount with her; and heart and head were beating in thick throbs. She wondered dimly—could she get up, if she tried? A nightmare sensation of helplessness weighed her down; and she craved to be let alone, not to be dragged back into what had become all at once a changed world to her. And yet, she would have to shake off this stupefaction. She would have to wake up and smile and talk. Only another moment's delay, and then— "How odd of the child to drop asleep so suddenly! I never knew her do it before." "She seems very sound. I don't think she can have heard us." Mr. Kelly stepped behind the couch, and laid a hand on Lettice's arm. She had not expected the touch, and it startled her into a sitting posture instantaneously. The start seemed, as indeed it was, perfectly natural. "Lettice, is anything the matter? Come here," said Cecilia. Lettice obeyed quietly. With that start, power of movement had returned: though she was still dazed and bewildered in mind. She reached the sofa, and smiled as she stood there, while her lips were white, and the wide-open eyes were sombre, gazing fixedly into the air. "How strange you look, child! Have you been dreaming? What makes you so pale? Did Mr. Kelly startle you?" Lettice said "Yes," with a mechanical little laugh, to each question in turn. "Were you asleep before Mr. Kelly came in?" "I don't—think so." "Only too sleepy to move? You queer child. And you dropped off afterwards. Was that it?" Lettice's laugh might have meant anything. "Felix walked you too far perhaps this morning. Run and get some cold water. That will wake you up. And you can open the front door for Mr. Kelly, if—" "Yes, certainly I must go," said the clergyman, replying to the half-uttered doubt. Lettice disappeared from the room, and he shook hands with Cecilia, remarking: "Your little sister does not seem quite well." "Do you call her 'little?' She will soon be sixteen. I have tried lately to make her feel herself more of a woman; but she does not behave like one yet. She is so childish. Lettice always was rather easily startled in her sleep. I was glad to see that puzzled look, because it showed how very sound she must have been. I would not for worlds have had her overhear what I said."