hear your footsteps in the halls. Be quiet about your comings and goings." He saw the man's lips quiver, and added more kindly: "I know it is hard, old man, but I want a chance to study her under those conditions, and I believe in a few days I can give you a complete diagnosis, and even suggest a cure. Will you give me your assistance?"
Again Dick Norman studied him through half closed eyes; then suddenly he got to his feet and held out his hand.
"Wayland, I guess I have been rather nasty to you in the last ten years, and I will admit it was deucedly hard for me to give in to Reed and call you. I haven't forgotten that Anne liked you at one time, but old chap, I'm willing to bury the hatchet if you will only pull Anne out of this."
Wayland took the offered hand.
"Let's forget it," he answered with brusque emphasis. "Anne must be our only thought now. I must have your cooperation."
"All right, King. I will stay at one of my clubs down town where I can be constantly in touch with you by telephone."
The next morning found Doctor Wayland installed in one of the many guest chambers of the beautiful suburban home of the Normans. As Dick had kept his word and left early for the city club, he found himself in full possession of the field. The first thing he did was to go for a reconnoitering walk in the spacious grounds. He circled around the east wing. It was a two-story structure built of stucco. The rest of the house was of solid stone. He came upon the gardener, overseeing the pruning of some bushes.
"Beautiful place here." He spoke casually, and added after a pause, "The grounds are wonderful. You keep them in perfect condition."
"Yes, sir, I do my best, sir. I just put in the landscape work this year."
"It certainly adds to the effect, and the house is a wonderful background for it all."
"Yes, sir."
Doctor Wayland turned and eyed it reminiscently.
"I used to come here a great deal years ago, but I don't remember that stucco wing. Has it been built on in the last ten years?"
The man raised his eyes to the wing in question and his face clouded as he answered:
"Oh, no, sir. I have been here twelve years and it has been here since I can remember. The servants would all feel better if it wasn't there; they say it is haunted, or bewitched, or something."
Dr. Wayland drew a cigar from his pocket and lighted it with one of his slow, deliberate movements; then he turned toward the gardener.
"Is that so? I guess most places have some kind of story attached to them. What time of night do the ghosts walk here at Normandale?"
He laughed, but no answering laugh echoed his, and he noted the seriousness of the old man's face.
"We haven't ever seen any ghosts; it's just sounds, sir. Nobody but Mr. Norman has entered that ground-floor room for nine years. He goes through a queer-looking door from his study. It is fastened with some kind of combination lock that looks like an alarm clock."
Wayland smiled again,
"I suppose he does that to keep prying people out of trouble. Certain chemicals in inexperienced hands sometimes blow up, you know."
"I know, sir, but even the heavy green blinds are tacked down all around the window casings. We hear queer music coming from that room at midnight sometimes; it is a weird, oriental tum tum that makes one shiver. I've heard that the first Mrs. Norman was very fond of that kind of music. That used to be her boudoir; it was furnished like a queen's palace."
"That likely accounts for its being closed. He can't bear the old associations. It probably makes him think of his former wife's tragic death."
The old man wagged his head sagely.
"That may be so, but it doesn't account for all those queer noises we hear coming from there almost every night. You see the servants' quarters are just over that room. The few old ones are used to it now, but the younger ones don't stay long."
Doctor Wayland threw away his cigar.
"Well, uncle, I think we have gossiped long enough this morning, but I suppose everybody enjoys a mystery. I must get back to my patient."
He went directly to Anne's room and dismissed the nurse,
"OH, King, you have a plan?" she. asked eagerly, her eyes all excitement and her hands working nervously.
He turned upon her, again the stern physician.
"If you are going to be hysterical, I'm through. You can help me by being calm and brave."
She quieted immediately and held out her hand beseechingly.
"Oh, I will be, I will be. You mustn't desert me now, King."
He took her hand and gave it a quiet pressure; in his eyes was a look so vivid, so intense, that it almost startled her. He opened his lips as if to speak and then closed them abruptly. He turned as if to go, but the woman held tightly to the hand that would have released her.
"King," she whispered, "tell me, do you know-have you seen-yet?"
He looked deep into her eyes for a long moment; finally he spoke, his voice hoarse with emotion:
"Anne, if that wing should burn to the ground and everything in it turned to ashes, could you go back to your husband's arms and still love him?"
She put up her arms as if to ward off a blow, and, sinking back, she buried her face in one of the soft silken cushions. She lay silent while the man bent over her, his face working with emotion.
"Tell me," he demanded sternly, "if I swear to you that you are simply the victim of an overwrought imagination, that you are suffering from hallucination, that as God and man are my judges, there is not an atom of truth or reality in your story will you go back to your husband's arms?"
He placed his hand upon her shoulder, and shook her almost brutally.
She raised her head and looked straight into the burning eyes before her.
"No, never. Why torment me with such nonsense? I know what I saw. Nothing in the world can ever change that. What is more, I will leave this house when you do if I have to be carried on a stretcher."
"Anne, do you mean that? You mean that you will not go on here, regardless of amends that are made?"
"I do," she answered steadily.
"Suppose I put Dick in an asylum if it should be true? Mind you, I'm not conceding that it is."
Her face blanched, and her lips trembled as she answered.
"Oh, no, no, not that, King. I couldn't bear that.
"You still love him?"
She shook her head slowly.
"No, I'm afraid I almost hate him for what he has done."
"If you are going to leave him, why not let him go on in his idiotic dreams?"
"No! All evidence must be destroyed. It is bound to come to light sometime if it goes on, and then all the world will give one little shiver of honor and go on pitying me and laughing at me forever. Oh, I couldn't bear that!"
He looked. at her silently for a moment, and then wheeled suddenly toward the door. Going to the study, he called Norman at the city club.
