_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.' Up I stood, and so soon as I had begun to hear and see aright, it struck me that Cousin Monica was more grave and subdued than I had seen her.
'Come, let us light our candles and go together.' Holding hands, we ascended, I sleepy, she silent; and not a word was spoken until we reached my room.