To the young man's surprise, his sister's eyes filled and then brimmed over with tears. Emmie leaned her brow against his shoulder, and drops fell fast on the sleeve of his arm, which she was pressing with a nervous grasp. "My dear Emmie, what can be the cause of all this sorrow? What ails you?" asked Bruce, grieved at the sight of distress for which he could not account. "Oh, Bruce!" sobbed Emmie, pressing her brother's arm yet more closely, "promise me--promise me--" She stopped short, as if afraid to finish her sentence. "What would you have me promise?" asked Bruce. Emmie gave no direct reply, but inquired abruptly, "Have you a bell in your room?" Her question was a real relief to the mind of Bruce, as it convinced him that Emmie's misery arose merely from some fanciful terrors in regard to the bricked-up apartment. "Yes," he answered gaily, "and a gun besides, to say nothing of poker and tongs, pen-knife, and razors. If any unpleasant guests were to make their appearance, they should find me quite ready to meet them." Emmie was crying no longer, but she looked pale and anxious as ever; something seemed to be on her tongue struggling for utterance,--something which she was afraid or unable to speak. "It is time for me to be off," said Bruce, gently releasing his arm from the clasp of his sister. "Bruce, stay. Tell me if you would again change rooms with me," cried Emmie, with a convulsive effort. "I am very sorry that you do not like your new apartment," said Bruce, slightly knitting his brows. "I do like it,--it is only too good for me," faltered poor Emmie. "Then why quit it?" asked Bruce, with a little impatience. "I thought that if you would not mind changing--" Again Emmie stopped abruptly, without concluding her sentence. "Of course I will change rooms with you if you really wish it," said Bruce, willing to humour his sister, but making mental reflections on the fickleness and unreasonableness of the fair sex, of which Emmie was the only representative with whom he was well acquainted. "But I do not wish it,--no, no,--not yet, not yet!" exclaimed Emmie, betraying terror at the idea of her brother complying with her request. The patience of Bruce was fairly exhausted. "I wish that you would know your own mind," he said, with an air of vexation. "Really, Emmie, you should try to overcome these ridiculous fears and fancies. Where is your spirit,--where is your faith?" Emmie turned away her head with a shivering sigh. "We must send you to London for change of scene," observed Bruce; "a few weeks with Aunt Mary will drive all these unreasonable terrors out of your mind." "Oh, let us all go--at once--to-day!" exclaimed Emmie, clasping her hands. "Let us all leave this horrible place." "For my father or myself to leave Myst Court at present is simply impossible," said Bruce, in that tone of quiet decision which, as Emmie well knew, expressed a resolution which it was useless for her to attempt to shake.