As I walked towards my home I was overcome with faintness, and I reeled like a drunken man. Then I recollected that food had not passed my lips since breakfast yesterday morning. I entered the nearest restaurant--it happened to be a public-house--and standing at the counter ate some sandwiches and hard boiled eggs. The barmaid asked what I would take to drink and for a moment I thought of calling for brandy, but it was not on that occasion I broke my vow never to touch spirituous liquor. I drank a glass of lemonade, and pursued my homeward way. As I entered the house I heard Barbara moaning and gibbering upstairs. The sounds were familiar to me, and it was with a sickening feeling that I entered the sitting-room. Maxwell was there and my stepmother. Maxwell was quite composed; my stepmother looked rather scared at my sudden entrance and wild appearance. They did not welcome me with effusion. Maxwell made the remark that they had been wondering what had become of me, and he inquired why I had not come home last night. I did not answer him. My stepmother volunteered the information that poor Barbara was very ill. "You had better not go up to her," she said. "The sight of you will make her worse." Neither did I reply to her. Their presence was so hateful to me that I left the room unceremoniously. They followed me into the passage, and, my foot on the stairs, some words of what passed between them reached my ears. "Mad, I think," said my stepmother. "Looks remarkably like it," responded Maxwell, pulling at his mustache. "Or, let us be charitable, and put it down to drink." "Supposing," she said, and finished the sentence in a whisper. I stepped back. "Supposing you drove me mad between you," I said, "there would be an end of me, and you and my wife would have control of my property. Is that it, dear friends?" They looked at each other, and my stepmother said, boldly: "Decidedly mad. Not a doubt of it." "No, dear stepmother," I said, my voice and manner expressing detestation of her, "not yet mad. Sane as yourselves. You remind me of an omission which I must repair. I have not made my will; it is a thing that ought not to be neglected. Not one of you shall profit by it, I promise you. Pray let me know what you are in my house for." "We are here to protect my sister from your brutality," said Maxwell, and it pleased me to see that I had disconcerted them. "Indeed! From my brutality? Of which you have already given evidence in your secret court of inquiry. And your sister, too. There was a time when I fancied there was no great love on either side. You pair of scheming devils! I will show you that I am master here. Out! the pair of you! Out of my house!" And I advanced towards them with so threatening an air that they began to retreat. "We will see what the law says to this," blustered Maxwell. "We have witnesses enough."