She rejoiced, however, in the order to put on the light in the corridor, for this meant that after settling her mistress in bed and transferring the dining-room coal scuttle to the bedroom she must return to switch the electricity off. Then, with Mrs. Ellsworth out of the way, she could help the man upstairs to escape, if the watchers had abandoned the game. The tyrant, shuffling along in heelless woollen slippers, made the most of her infirmity, and hung on the arm of her tall companion. In silence they passed through the baize door at the end of the corridor, so into the addition at the back of the house, which contained Mrs. Ellsworth's room and bath, with another small room suitable for a maid, and occupied by Annesley. This addition had been built a year or two before Annesley's arrival, and saved Mrs. Ellsworth the necessity of mounting and descending the stairs, as she used the dining room to sit in and seldom went into the drawing room on the floor above. Annesley was not surprised to see that the fire in her mistress's room was still a bank of glowing coals, for one of Mrs. Ellsworth's pleasures was to represent herself in the light of a martyr. The girl made no remark, however: she was far too experienced for such mistakes in tact. Still in silence, she peeled the stout figure of its dressing gown and helped it into a short, knitted bed-jacket. "When you get the dining-room scuttle, put out the light there and in the corridor," Mrs. Ellsworth said. "If you leave this door open you can see your way with the coals. No use your creaking back and forth just as I've settled down to rest. Besides, there's somebody else to think of. I hope he hasn't been disturbed already!" "Somebody else?" echoed the girl with a gasp. There was no longer any fear that her curiosity had not caught fire. Mrs. Ellsworth was satisfied. "Yes, somebody else," she condescended to repeat. "A certain person has come since you went out. I suppose, _in the circumstances_, you do not need to be told _who_." "I--I don't know what you mean by 'in the circumstances'," Annesley stammered. "That's not intelligent of you, considering where you have spent the evening," sneered Mrs. Ellsworth. Annesley's ears tingled as if they had been boxed. Could it be that Mrs. Ellsworth knew of the trick played on her--knew that her companion had not been to the Smiths'? "I'm afraid I don't understand," she deprecated. Mrs. Ellsworth sat in bed staring up at her. "Either you are a fool," she said, "or else I have caught you or _him_ in a lie. I don't know which yet. But I soon shall. Perhaps you were not the only person in this house who went out to-night with a latchkey. Now do you guess?" "No, I don't," the girl had to answer, though a dreadful idea was whirring an alarm in her brain.