only I could have slipped out unobserved I would never have braved my
fortune within those walls again.

She who had been called Dance went up to the two ladies, curtsied
deeply, and began talking in a low, earnest voice. Hardly, however, had
she spoken a dozen words when the lesser of the two ladies flung up her
arms with a cry like that of some wounded creature, and would have
fallen to the ground had not Dance caught her round the waist and so
held her.

"What folly is this?" cried Lady Chillington, sternly, striking the
pavement of the hall sharply with the iron ferrule of her cane. "To your
room, Sister Agnes! For such poor weak fools as you solitude is the only
safe companion. But, remember your oath! Not a word; not a word." With
one lean hand uplifted, and menacing forefinger, she emphasised those
last warning words.

She who had been addressed as Sister Agnes raised herself, with a deep
sigh, from the shoulder of Dance, cast one long look in the direction of
the spot where I was standing, and vanished slowly through the curtained
arch. Then Dance took up the broken thread of her narration, and Lady
Chillington, grim and motionless, listened without a word.

Even after Dance had done speaking, her ladyship stood for some time
looking straight before her, but saying nothing in reply. I felt
intuitively that my fate was hanging on the decision of those few
moments, but I neither stirred nor spoke.

At length the silence was broken by Lady Chillington. "Take the child
away," she said; "attend to her wants, make her presentable, and bring