"More noodle you! Go and sleep it off." "Sure now, asthore, you’ll not be refusin’ your own twin?" she cooed. "You’re a beastly little humbug!" He went across to the window and banged it down. The bang echoed startlingly in the night. "Oh, Denis, you’ve shut the curtain out!" "Eh? Oh, well, it can stay out." A loud whisper hissed with disconcerting suddenness through the keyhole. "Denis O’Brien, are you asleep?" Nell turned to him with a little gasp. "Denis, I—I can’t stand any more of her to-night!" Her small fingers caught his arm with sudden desperation. "Here, in you go!" He picked her up and deposited her in the bed. "Keep quiet," he said peremptorily. He emitted a loud and very realistic yawn. "Denis O’Brien!" "Is it dreaming I am?" he observed in a sleepy voice. "Apparently you are!" came the sharp retort through the keyhole. "Is that you, Aunt Kezia?" he queried in a surprised voice. "Isn’t it time you were in bed?" "I wish to speak to you at once!" "I’m here, close to the keyhole." "Open the door!" "Oh! Er—you know—my costume—rather primitive, you know—" His absurd air of coyness brought an irrepressible giggle from the bed. "Please don’t try to be funny! Unlock your door at once!" "It’s never locked at all." He opened it so suddenly that Miss Kezia nearly fell headlong into the room. He caught her in his arms. "Are you hurt? Sure? Well, what is it now? A mouse? Let me go and kill him!" Miss Kezia had righted herself; she stood, candle in hand, glaring at him angrily. The light flickered over her gaunt face and weird night-cap, over the severe and scanty folds of her sombre dressing-gown. "I heard a window closed," she began. "Window? I say, Aunt Kezia, don’t be nervous, but—er—don’t London burglars generally open windows? Let’s find a poker. I," quoth he, bravely, "will protect you." "It—wasn’t you?" Miss Kezia hesitated. Apparently he did not hear. He was gently but firmly ejecting her from his room. Together they searched the house, but found no suggestion of a burglar. Miss Kezia went back reluctantly to her bed. "Let us trust she’ll be visited with a plague of nightmare burglars!" Denis sent after her cheerfully. Nell, creeping back to her room, heard through the half-open door a murmur. She looked in, and saw a small pig-tailed figure sitting up in bed clasping something black to its bosom. "Oh, my own K.K.—did I say I wasn’t wantin’ you, asthore? ’Twas only because I was frightened I’d cry, like that silly Molly. I didn’t mean it, K.K. Oh, I didn’t! ’Twas cruel of me to say it, dear—" The murmur was broken, full of tears. Nell went back softly up a few stairs; then came down again, with a little stumble and an "Oh!" She could not help an apprehensive thought of Miss Kezia and burglars. When she entered the bedroom Sheila Pat lay still, apparently fast asleep.