leave the secret chamber; "I shall come sometimes, Hester dear,
and sit there, just I myself, and we will talk together, the dolls
and I. I shall not forget."

The panel slid into its place with a faint click; no sign was
left, only the white wainscoting, one panel like another, and the
crooked stair winding up to the open, airy room above.





CHAPTER V.

TEA AT ROSEHOLME.




On a certain lovely evening in June, Hildegarde left the house at
six o'clock, or, to be precise, at five minutes before six, and
took the path that led to Roseholme. It was her eighteenth
birthday, and the Colonel was giving her a tea-party. This was a
great event, for many years had passed since guests had been
invited to Roseholme. The good Colonel, always delighted to be
with Hildegarde and her mother, had still kept up his solitary
habits at home, and save for little Hugh, who flitted about the
dark old house like a sunbeam, it was a lonely place. Now,
however, the Colonel had roused himself and declared that he, and
no other, should give his young friend her birthday treat. The