"That's it--I don't know just where it is. He comes and tells me, almost, but never quite. He says it's in the house, but he doesn't say exactly where. But he never lies--so I do know it's in the house, and I won't be robbed." "I have not the slightest idea of what you mean--if you really do mean anything at all. I don't know if you know me--or are under the impression that I know you; if so, I can only assure you that I don't. I have not the faintest notion who you are." The woman, drawing nearer, clutched Madge's arm with both her hands. "Don't you know who I am? I'm the ghost's wife!" Her manner was not only exceedingly unpleasant; it was, in a sense, uncanny--so uncanny that, in spite of herself, Madge could not help a startled look coming into her face. The appearance of this look seemed to amuse her tormentor. She broke into a continuous peal of unmelodious laughter. "I'm the ghost's wife!" she kept repeating. "I'm the ghost's wife." Madge Brodie prided herself on her strength of nerve, and as, a rule, not without cause. But, on that occasion, almost for the first time in her life it played her false. She would have been glad to have been able to scream and flee; but she was incapable even of doing that. The other seemed to hold her spellbound; she was conscious that her senses were reeling--that, unless something happened soon, she would faint. But from that final degradation she was saved. "Madge," exclaimed a voice, "who is this woman?" It was Ella Duncan, and with her was Jack Martyn. At the sound of the voice, the woman released her hold. Never before had Madge been sensible of such a spasm of relief. She rushed to Ella with a hysterical sob. "Oh, Ella!" she cried, "how thankful I am you've come." Ella looked at her with surprise. "Madge!--who is this woman?" The woman in question spoke for herself. She threw up her arms. "I'm the ghost's wife!" she shrieked, "I'm the ghost's wife!" Before they had suspected her purpose, or could say anything to stop her, she had rushed out of the room and from the house. CHAPTER III TWO LONE, LORN YOUNG WOMEN Ella and Jack eyed each other. Madge took refuge in a chair, conscious of a feeling of irritation at her weakness now that the provocation had passed. Ella regarded her curiously. "What's the matter with you, Madge? What's happened?" "It's nothing--only that horrible woman has upset me." "Who is she? and what's she been doing? and what's she want?" "I don't know who she is, or what she wants, or anything at all about her. I only know that she's prevented me getting anything for your tea." "That's all right--we've got something, haven't we, Jack?" Jack waved a parcel. "But whatever did you let such an extraordinary-looking creature into the house for? and whatever did she mean by screaming out that she's a ghost's wife? Is she very mad?" "I think she is--and I didn't let her in."