She sat down quite cheerfully to her dinner, at which the master so seldom appeared now that his absence was nothing remarkable, and succeeded in making the attendants think that there was nothing more wrong than usual. After dinner, she carried a cup of coffee up to her husband with her own hands, but found him in an unaccountably nervous condition, considering how hopeful he had been when she parted with him. ‘Who is that downstairs?’ he asked, glancing fearfully at the door by which she had entered, as if he thought someone would steal in after her. ‘I heard voices. Whom have you been talking to?’ ‘No one, dear, except the servants,’ replied his wife. ‘I met Ellen on the stairs just now coming from Wally’s room, and she says the little rogue is so free from pain to-night that he has been romping over the bed.’ ‘No, no! Not that!’ replied Hindes, fretfully. ‘There was someone else. Don’t try to deceive me. A man’s voice. I heard it distinctly.’ ‘Why should I deceive you, Henry?’ said Hannah, mildly. ‘I assure you, you are mistaken. I have been quite alone since you came upstairs.’ ‘I don’t believe it! You’re lying to me!’ he answered, glaring at her with demoniacal eyes. She was used to his vagaries, and found it best not to argue against them. So she put the bedclothes over him carefully again, and, stooping down, kissed him, and bade him go to sleep. ‘I shall come up very early to-night, you know, dear, in order to arrange your things, and, if you wish it, I will rouse you then, but it will be much better if you will try and sleep. You said just now, you know, that you would be good, and let me manage everything for you--and so I will. Only try and rest, for you will have so much fatigue to-morrow.’ Her soothing had its usual effect on him, and he lay down and closed his eyes, and murmured something about not deserving to have so good a wife, which was eminently true. Hannah occupied herself a little about the adjoining apartment, until she thought he had dropped off again, and then went softly downstairs again. What was her amazement to be met at the foot by one of her servants, with the intelligence that a gentleman was waiting in the drawing-room to see her. ‘A gentleman!’ she echoed; ‘what is his name, James?’ ‘He did not give his name, ma’am. He asked for the master first, but I said I thought he had gone up to bed, and then he said he would wait and see. I think he’s some sort of a priest, if you please, ma’am; at least, he looks like it.’