“You have been very good to the child. It was best for her to go.” “Yes, I think it was. Don’t you find that the mist from the marsh makes your room very cold this weather, Mrs. Rayner?” She looked at me in a frightened irresolute way, and then she formed with her lips rather than spoke the words-- “Yes--rather cold--now.” “Wouldn’t you be more comfortable in one of the rooms upstairs while the fogs last?” I insinuated shyly. But I saw that her breath was beginning to come fast, and the faint pink to tinge her cheek as it did when she was excited. “Did any one tell you to say that to me?” she asked, in a whisper. “I told Mr. Rayner, when I wrote, that we had a slight fog here on Tuesday night, and this morning I had a letter saying that he thought it was bad for you to sleep on the ground-floor when the mists had begun to rise high, and that he had told Sarah to prepare the large front spare-room for you.” Instead of looking grateful for this proof of her husband’s thoughtfulness, she became agitated, and at last her agitation grew almost uncontrollable; she trembled and clung to the bars inside the window, and I saw that her forehead was wet with the effect of some strong emotion--it looked like fear. “At last--at last! I have been here too long,” she gasped. I thought that the effect on her nervous temperament of making her leave the room against her will would outweigh any physical good the change might do her. The wild look was coming into her eyes which I had seen there twice before, and I was afraid of her being seized with a paroxysm while I stood there on the other side of the barred window, powerless to help her; so I said gently-- “Of course Mr. Rayner would not wish you to go if you did not wish it.” But she shook her head, and, putting her face between the bars to be closer to me, she said, in a low broken voice-- “Do you know what his wishes mean when Sarah carries them out?” I stood looking up at her, appalled. Her terror was so real that it infected me, and for the moment I almost shared the poor lady’s mad belief that there was a conspiracy against her. But her next words restored me to my senses. “Are you against me too?” she asked piteously. “I always thought you were; but then you were kind to my child--and I don’t know, I don’t know whom to trust!” “You may trust me, dear Mrs. Rayner, indeed,” said I earnestly. “I would not have suggested your leaving your room if I had thought it would cause you so much pain. Indeed, I did not know you were so much attached to it.” She shuddered. There was a pause, during which she stared at me steadily and searchingly. But I had no cause to fear her poor mad eyes, so I returned her gaze, and she grew gradually calmer. “Miss Christie,” said she at last, in a whisper, “you have influence in this house. That night when Haidee was ill you made Sarah obey you. If I may trust you, give me this proof--get me one day’s respite. Let me stay in my own room till--to-morrow.”