sound of a voice fell upon her ears, speaking in low, eager tones; it was Doctor Danton.

“I wonder what Jack Danton is doing here?” Mrs. Arleigh said to herself, with a hazy impression that the[Pg 58] hour was very late. “I believe he is speaking to Violet. Poor child, she ought to be in bed. She must be greatly fatigued after—after her ball.”

[Pg 58]

The ball! There! She has come back to first principles now; and now Rosamond Arleigh begins to untangle the web which is woven about her brain. She remembers the scene in her own sitting-room between herself and Gilbert Warrington. She recalls it all, every word, every look, every gesture. It struck home to her understanding, her memory, with the sharpness of a knife. The poor woman uttered a low cry, and struggled to a sitting posture.

Doctor Danton had by this time induced Violet to go to bed, and he had returned to the next room and the company of Dunbar, closing the door of communication between the two apartments.

Rosamond sat up on the flower-strewn couch and stared wildly about her. Was she dead? Was her body really bereft of life; and this, that was thinking and troubling itself so, was it her freed spirit, anxious to soar away, yet earth-bound still? It was a strange, a grewsome thought.

Trembling like a leaf, she rose to her feet. They had arranged the supposed dead body in a simple robe of snowy lawn trimmed with lace. There was nothing suggestive of a shroud in the garment, yet Rosamond’s eyes, as they rested upon it, closed involuntarily, and a shudder passed over her. A swift, wild thought flashed into her brain. Remember, it was not yet quite clear, nor had[Pg 59] she recovered entirely from the effects of her recent attack and the strange experience which had followed it. Let any woman, no matter how strong her nerves, open her eyes and realize that the world believes her dead, that she is robed for the grave, and over in a corner of the room her coffin stands waiting to receive her body, and my word for it, she would be guilty of quite as insane conduct as that of which Rosamond Arleigh is guilty now.

[Pg 59]

And the circumstances which surround Rosamond were so strange and unusual, she had become the victim of such remarkable events, so wildly romantic, no wonder her weak nerves had failed her now and she had given way. Her brain was giddy with the crowd of thoughts and fancies which beset it; she was 

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