It almost put her out of patience to see Mrs Openshaw come in,
calmly smiling, handsomely dressed, happy, easy, to inquire after her
children.

'Did Ailsie go to sleep comfortably?' she whispered to Norah.

'Yes.'

Her mother bent over her, looking at her slumbers with the soft eyes
of love. How little she dreamed who had looked on her last! Then she
went to Edwin, with perhaps less wistful anxiety in her countenance,
but more of pride. She took off her things, to go down to supper.
Norah saw her no more that night.

Beside having a door into the passage, the sleeping-nursery opened
out of Mr and Mrs Openshaw's room, in order that they might have
the children more immediately under their own eyes. Early the next
summer's morning, Mrs Openshaw was awakened by Ailsie's startled call
of 'Mother! mother!' She sprang up, put on her dressing-gown, and went
to her child. Ailsie was only half awake, and in a not unusual state
of terror.

'Who was he, mother? Tell me!'

'Who, my darling? No one is here. You have been dreaming, love. Waken
up quite. See, it is broad daylight.'

'Yes,' said Ailsie, looking round her; then clinging to her mother,
'but a man was here in the night, mother.'