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A Terrible Secret by May Agnes Fleming
page 70 of 573 (12%)
they know what she is about, she falls down in a faint in their midst.

They lift her up; they look into one another's pale faces.

"My lady!" they repeat, in an awe-struck whisper. "_Murdered_!"

"Here!" cries Mr. Hooper, his dignity coming to his aid, "let us
investigate this here. Lay this young woman flat on her back on the
floor, sprinkle her with water, and let her come to. I'm going to find
out what she means."

They lay poor Ellen stiffly out as directed, some one dashes water
into her face, then in a body, with Mr. Hooper at their head, they
march off to investigate.

"She was in the day-nursery," Nurse Pool suggests, in a whisper, and
to the day-nursery they go.

On the threshold for a second or two they halt, their courage failing.
But there is nothing very terrifying. Only the solemn moonlight, only
the motionless little figure in the arm-chair. And yet a great awe
holds them back. Does death--does murder stand grisly in their midst?

"Let us go in, in the name of Providence," says Mr. Hooper, a tremble
in his voice; "it--it can't be what she says. O good Lord, no!"

They go forward on tiptoe, as if afraid of awakening that quiet
sleeper whom only the last trump will ever awake now. They bend above
her, holding their breath. Yes, there it is--the blood that is soaking
her dress, dripping horribly on the carpet--oozing slowly from that
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