"And you are really the nurse?" she asked, coming nearer and looking
at me in the full glare of the gas.

"Yes," I assured her, "really and truly the nurse."

"Well, I don't understand it!" she cried. "I was always Mrs.
Pollard's favorite maid, and I was with her when she was took, and
would be with her now, but they won't let me set a foot inside the
door. And when I asked why they keep me out, who was always
attentive and good to her, they say I am too young. And here you be
younger than I, and a stranger too. I don't like it," she cried,
tossing her head again and again. "I haven't deserved it, and I
think it is mighty mean."

I saw the girl was really hurt, so I hastened to explain that I was
not the nurse they expected, and was succeeding, I think, in
mollifying her, when a step was heard in the hall, and she gave a
frightened start, and hurried towards the door.

"So you are sure you don't want anything?" she cried, and was out of
my sight before I could answer.

There was nothing to detain me, and I hastened to follow. As I
crossed the sill I almost started too, at sight of the tall, slim,
truly sinister figure that awaited me, leaning against the opposite
wall. He was younger than his brother, and had similar features, but
there was no charm here to make you forget that the eye was darkly
glittering, and the lip formidable in its subtlety and power. He
advanced with much of the easy nonchalance that had so characterized
the other.