For they are actions that a man might play;
But I have that within which passeth show.
--HAMLET.

"Miss Sterling?"

I was sitting by the side of Mrs. Harrington in her own room. By a
feverish exertion of strength I had borne her thither from her
mother's chamber, and was now watching the returning hues of life
color her pale cheek. At the sound of my name, uttered behind me, I
arose. I had expected a speedy visit from one of the brothers, but I
had been in hopes that it would be Dwight, and not Guy, who would
make it.

"I must speak to you at once; will you follow me?" asked that
gentleman, bowing respectfully as I turned.

I glanced at Mrs. Harrington, but he impatiently shook his head.

"Anice is at the door," he remarked. "She is accustomed to Mrs.
Harrington, and will see that she is properly looked after." And,
leading the way, he ushered me out, pausing only to cast one hurried
glance back at his sister, as if to assure himself she was not yet
sufficiently recovered to note his action.

In the hall he offered me his arm.

"The gas has not yet been lighted," he explained, "and I wish you to