away, it seemed--the chink of a pan, and a man's voice speaking a brief
word. It would be Maurice, in the other part of the stable. She stood
motionless, waiting for him to come through the partition door. The
horses were so terrifyingly near to her, in the invisible.

The loud jarring of the inner door-latch made her start; the door was
opened. She could hear and feel her husband entering and invisibly
passing among the horses near to her, in darkness as they were, actively
intermingled. The rather low sound of his voice as he spoke to the horses
came velvety to her nerves. How near he was, and how invisible! The
darkness seemed to be in a strange swirl of violent life, just upon her.
She turned giddy.

Her presence of mind made her call, quietly and musically:

'Maurice! Maurice--dea-ar!'

'Yes,' he answered. 'Isabel?'

She saw nothing, and the sound of his voice seemed to touch her.

'Hello!' she answered cheerfully, straining her eyes to see him. He was
still busy, attending to the horses near her, but she saw only darkness.
It made her almost desperate.

'Won't you come in, dear?' she said.

'Yes, I'm coming. Just half a minute. _Stand over--now_! Trap's not come,
has it?'