One of those sudden changes had taken place in the weather to which we in England are so accustomed. With the day the glory had departed. Evening was ushered in by leaden skies. Dorothy became conscious how, all at once, shadows seemed to have gathered. She had no means of telling what the time was; she had never possessed a watch, and in the pink room there was no clock. The regatta seemed over; the garden had emptied; the hum of people's voices, of laughter, which had floated in to her through the open window, had ceased; silence reigned. To her excited fancy there was something ominous in the sudden stillness, the growing darkness. What was going on downstairs? It was odd that they should have left her so long alone--with the ghosts which would press on her even in the sunshine, but which pressed still closer with the advent of the night. Why had she seen nothing, heard nothing, of Frances? The people had gone. Was she forgotten?--or what? It was very hard to sit there waiting, watching, listening. Why did not something happen? She was so unnerved that, of her own volition, she seemed incapable of doing anything. When she was a very small child, whenever there was trouble in the air, if opportunity offered, she would undress herself and get into bed, as if bed were sanctuary. She would have liked to insinuate herself between the sheets then, though it was scarcely night, but she was afraid; and she had a feeling that, for her, the days when bed was sanctuary had gone. Why did not someone come, if it was only to tap at the door and ask how she was? Someone did tap. The sound was so unexpected that it started her trembling. It was such a curious tap; not at all the firm, pronounced tap Frances might have given, but faint, furtive; almost as if the tapper were anxious not to be heard. Indeed, in the silence which followed, Dorothy was not sure that it was a tap--until it came again, no louder, as if someone touched the panel of the door lightly, with the tip of a single finger. Dorothy vouchsafed no invitation to enter. She did not ask who was there. She felt sure it was not Frances, nor a message from her; it was not the sort of tap which would be given by a bearer of good tidings.