'And I know the spirit _you_ speak in, the spirit of _madness_,' retorted Cousin Monica, just as much in earnest. 'I can't conceive how you _can_ be so _demented_, Austin. What has perverted you? are you _blind_?' '_You_ are, Monica; your own unnatural prejudice--_unnatural_ prejudice, blinds you. What is it all?--_nothing_. Were I to act as you say, I should be a _coward_ and a traitor. I see, I _do_ see, all that's real. I'm no Quixote, to draw my sword on illusions.' 'There should be no halting here. How _can_ you--do you ever _think_? I wonder if you can breathe. I feel as if the evil one were in the house.' A stern, momentary frown was my father's only answer, as he looked fixedly at her. 'People need not nail up horseshoes and mark their door-stones with charms to keep the evil spirit out,' ran on Lady Knollys, who looked pale and angry, in her way, 'but you open your door in the dark and invoke unknown danger. How can you look at that child that's--she's _not_ playing,' said Knollys, abruptly stopping. My father rose, muttering to himself, and cast a lurid glance at me, as he went in high displeasure to the door. Cousin Monica, now flushed a little, glanced also silently at me, biting the tip of her slender gold cross, and doubtful how much I had heard. My father opened the door suddenly, which he had just closed, and looking in, said, in a calmer tone-- 'Perhaps, Monica, you would come for a moment to the study; I'm sure you have none but kindly feelings towards me and little Maud, there; and I thank you for your good-will; but you must see other things more reasonably, and I think you will.' Cousin Monica got up silently and followed him, only throwing up her eyes and hands as she did so, and I was left alone, wondering and curious more than ever. CHAPTER XV _A WARNING_ I sat still, listening and wondering, and wondering and listening; but I ought to have known that no sound could reach me where I was from my father's study. Five minutes passed and they did not return. Ten, fifteen. I drew near the fire and made myself comfortable in a great arm-chair, looking on the embers, but not seeing all the scenery and _dramatis personae_ of my past life or future fortunes, in their shifting glow, as people in romances usually do; but fanciful castles and caverns in blood-red and golden glare, suggestive of dreamy fairy-land, salamanders, sunsets, and palaces of fire-kings, and all this partly shaping and partly shaped by my fancy, and leading my closing eyes and drowsy senses off into dream-land. So I nodded and dozed, and sank into a deep slumber, from which I was roused by the voice of my cousin Monica. On opening my eyes, I saw nothing but Lady Knollys' face looking steadily into mine, and expanding into a good-natured laugh as she watched the vacant and lack-lustre stare with which I returned her gaze. 'Come, dear Maud, it is late; you ought to have been in your bed an hour ago.'