“while the maid took up my card. The room was in darkness, save for the light of the fire. The windows, you know, look out upon the street. Instead of sitting down, I wandered toward them and in a moment saw someone standing behind the curtains. My first thought—don’t laugh at me—was that it was Miss Croydon looking for me, for she knew that I was coming, and I strode to the curtains and threw them back, uttering I know not what nonsense. You can imagine how abashed I was when Mrs. Delroy wheeled around upon me with a face so white and distorted that I scarcely knew her.
“‘Oh, I beg your pardon,’ I cried, seeing how I had startled her.
“For a moment she didn’t seem to know me.
“‘What is it?’ she asked in a hoarse whisper. ‘What has happened?’
“‘My dear Mrs. Delroy, you really must pardon me,’ I repeated. ‘I’m awfully sorry I frightened you. I took you for your sister.’
“She stared at me a minute longer in a queer way; then her face brightened and she smiled and held out her hand.
“‘Oh, how do you do, Mr. Drysdale?’ she said, but her voice was even yet a little tremulous. ‘Yes, you did startle me. Isn’t it a fearful night?’
“‘Indeed it is!’ I agreed. ‘I had quite a time getting here.’
“‘You came to see Grace?’ she asked, with a glance over her shoulder down into the street.
“‘Yes,’ I said; ‘she’s expecting me. I’ve sent up my card. I told my man not to wait,’ I added, think-
