to her previous narrative.

"What was Miss Inez doing in there?" demanded the maid; "no, good,
I'll be bound. She hates my lady like poison; Sir Victor jilted her,
you know, and she's in love with him yet. My lady _shall_ be woke
up in spite of her; she'd like her to get her death in the night air,
I dare say. I've an easy missis and a good place, and I mean to keep
'em. I ain't afraid of Miss Inez's black eyes and sharp tongue;
_I'll_ go and wake my lady up."

She finished her tea and left. She reached the nursery door and rapped
as Nurse Pool had done. There was no reply. She turned the handle
softly and went in.

The large, crystal, clear moon was high in the sky now; its chill
brightness filled the room. The arm-chair still stood under the window;
the small figure of my lady still lay motionless in it.

"My lady," Ellen said gently, advancing, "please wake up."

There was no reply, no stir. She bent closer over her.

"Please, my lady, wake up; I'm afraid you'll catch your death of--"

The words ended in a shriek that rang through the house from end to
end--a woman's shrill, ear-splitting shriek. She had laid her hand
upon my lady's bosom to arouse her; she snatched it away and sprang
back in horror. Asleep! Yes the sleep that knows no waking. Sir Victor
Catheron's pretty young wife lay there in the moonlight--dead.