One day when Maud was sitting alone in the library by the fire reading, a servant entered with word a lady who declined giving any name wished to see Miss Midharst. She was, the servant said, a thin, tall, old lady, dressed in black. No ladies called at the Castle. What could this woman want? Maud wondered. Who could she be? A tall, thin, old lady, dressed in black. Had she asked by name for Miss Midharst? "Yes; she said she wanted to see Miss Midharst. I asked her would Mrs. Grant do, and she said No, she wanted to see Miss Midharst alone." "Alone?" "Alone." Who could it be? The last person who had asked to see her and declined to give a name was William. (She would write to William to-day and tell him what she thought. It was a strange thing for her to have to write to him. But she did not know what to do. William was her only friend. She was afraid to speak to Mrs. Grant about it. If she mentioned the matter to Mrs. Grant, no one could tell but it might get back to Mr. Grey's ears, and that would never do. Never.) Ah, the servant is waiting yet. "Where is the lady?" "In the hall-room, madame." "Tell her I will come to her at once." Maud rose slowly and put down her book. As she moved along the corridors, she thought: "This is most unpleasant, it is terrible. My father is not yet two months dead, and Mr. Grey's manner frightens me. At first I did not notice it, but now--now I can have no doubt. He has not said anything plain yet, but he can mean nothing else. He calls me Maud, and not Miss Midharst. He takes my hand, too, when we are alone, and looks in my eyes and frightens me. His eyes are queer. When he is looking at me he seems suddenly to forget who I am, or where he is. It is only within the past week I noticed this; and yesterday he looked at me with those awful eyes, and begged me to be good to him and come, for God's sake, and take the thing away from the dark passages and the doorways. Then he asked me if I smelt blood, and burst out laughing, and said all this was part of a play he was writing. Judas Iscariot, the hero of his play! What a horrible thought!" She reached the hall-room. It had long ago been used by the family as a breakfast-parlour when few guests were at the Castle; for many years it had been made a waiting-room. Maud opened the door and entered. The day was cold, and she directed her glance first towards the fire. No one was there, but she saw standing with her back to the window a tall, thin, old woman. The stranger did not move. She fixed her eyes on Maud, and stood staring at the girl. Maud moved slowly and timidly up the room. When within a couple of yards of the other she said: "I am Miss Midharst. You wish to see me. Will you not take a chair near the fire?" "Yes, I wanted to see you. I want to see you." She did not move. Her voice was firm and hard, with a tone of menace in it. "I--I cannot recall your face, and the servant did not bring your name."