“Isn’t it very early? Why are you prowling about at this hour?” “Yes, I suppose it’s early. I couldn’t sleep--one cannot always sleep when one would.” “You are not such a bad sleeper as you think,” said John--as have said before him, in the calm of experience, the partners of many a restless wife and husband. “And I wish,” he added impatiently, “that you’d let me sleep, at least.” Instead of quenching him by a sharp word, as was Letitia’s wont, she came towards the bedside and sat down, turning her back to the light. “John,” she said, “there has been a great deal happening while you have been asleep.” “What?” he cried. He raised himself up on his elbow, terrified, threatening. “Letitia, for God’s sake, don’t tell me that anything has happened to the boy.” “Oh, the boy!” she cried, with an impatience that was balm to his heart. Then she went on, not looking at him, “Fancy, who arrived last night--Mary, looking for her child----” “Lady Frogmore!” “Mary--and calling for her child--she who always denied that she ever had one. She came flying upon me in his room, and seized hold of me and dragged me out of it; mad--mad--as mad again--as--as a March hare.” Her lips parted in a harsh laugh. “I believe she would have torn me to pieces if I had not taken to my heels. You know there is nothing in the world I am so frightened of as madness--nothing! I took to my heels----” “Wait a bit,” said John, “wait, I don’t understand. She came in the middle of the night to see her child?” “Agnes must have put her up to it. Agnes must have got it into her head at last that she had a child.” “And you were in his room? What were you doing in his room, Letitia? You have never nursed him. You were asleep when I came upstairs.” She gave him a momentary glance--half of defiance, half of alarm--and yet she had thought of this, too. “I fancied the nurse looked sleepy--the night nurse, you know, John--I thought she looked drowsy, and I stole back to listen. Well, I did, for she was asleep. I went into see that all was right for the night--his drink----” Even Letitia’s nerve was not enough for this. She shivered. “It is cold at this hour in the morning,” she said, her teeth chattering. “Did you give him anything to drink?” John would not have dared to confess to himself what dread apprehension went through his heart. And it was dreadful for him to talk of it, though she was so wonderful in self-command. “I?--oh, no. I gave him nothing. I have not nursed him, you know. I saw that all was there that he could want, and was going to rouse the nurse, when somebody came upon me and took me by the shoulders. At first I thought it was you.” “Why should you think that I would take you by the shoulders?” His suspicion was not quenched, but seized upon every word. “Yes,” she said, “why should I? I thought, perhaps, you were angry with me for being there at all.” “Why should I be angry with you,” he asked again, “for being there?” never taking his eyes from her face.