"It was too true; Mrs. Rane was dead," said sympathizing people one to the other; for even that same night the sad tidings went partially out to Dallory. What with the death of Hepburn the undertaker, and now the doctor\'s wife--both prominent people, as might be said, in connection with the sickness--something like consternation fell on those who heard it. Dr. Rane carried the news himself to Dallory Hall, catching Mr. North just as he was going to bed, and imparting it to him in the most gentle and soothing manner in his power. Fearing that if left until morning, it might reach him abruptly, the doctor had thus made haste. From thence he went on to Hepburn\'s. He had chanced to meet Francis Dallory in coming out of Seeley\'s; he met some one else he knew; these carried the tidings to others; so that many heard of it that night.

But now we come to a strange and singular thing that happened to Jelly. Jelly in her tart way was sufficiently good-hearted. There was sickness in Ketler\'s house: the wife had her three days\' old infant: the little girl, Cissy, grew worse and weaker: and Jelly chose to sacrifice an afternoon to nursing them. Much as she disapproved of the man\'s joining the Trades\' union and upholding the strike, often as she had assured him that both starving and the workhouse, whichever he might prefer, were too good for him, now that misfortune lay upon the house, Jelly came-to a little. Susan Ketler was her cousin; and, after all, she was not to blame for her husband\'s wrong doings. Accordingly, in the afternoon of the last day of Mrs. Rane\'s illness, Jelly went forth to Ketler\'s, armed with some beef-tea, and a few scraps for the half-famished children, the whole enclosed in a reticule.

"I shall take the latch-key," she said, in starting, to the cook, who was commonly called Dinah, "so you can go to bed. If Susan Ketler\'s very ill I shall stop late. Mind you put a box of matches on the slab in the hall."

Susan Ketler was not very ill, Jelly found; but the child, Cissy, was. So ill, that Jelly hardly knew whether to leave her at all, or not. The mother could not attend to her; Ketler had gone tramping off beyond Whitborough after union work, and had not returned. Only that she thought Mrs. Cumberland would not be pleased if she came to hear that Jelly, the confidential servant in charge, had stayed out for a night, leaving the house with only the cook in it, she had certainly remained. At past twelve poor Ketler arrived home, dead beat, sick, faint, having walked several miles without food. Jelly blew him up a little: she considered that the man who could refuse work when his children were starving, because he belonged to the Trades\' union, deserved nothing but blowing-up: bade him look to Cissy, told him ungraciously that there was a loaf in the pan, and departed. Ketler, ready to drop though he was, civilly offered to see her home; but all the thanks he received in return, was a recommendation to attend to his own concerns and not to meddle with hers.

It was a fine, still night, rather too warm for the illness that had fallen upon Dallory; and Jelly walked on at a swift pace, her reticule, empty now, on her arm. Some women might have felt timid at the midnight walk: Jelly was too strong-minded to feel anything of the sort. She certainly found it a little lonely on entering the Ham, as if the road under the overshadowing trees, beginning now to lose some of their leaves, had something weird about it. But this part was soon passed; and Jelly came to the houses, and within sight of home. Not a soul met she: it was as dreary, as far as human companionship went, as it could be. A black cat sprang suddenly from the hedge, and tore across the road almost touching Jelly\'s feet; and it made her start.

She began thinking about Mrs. Rane; quite unconscious of the death that had taken place. When Jelly left home in the afternoon Mrs. Rane was said to be in danger: at least such was Phillis\'s opinion, privately communicated: but, late in the evening, news had been brought to Keller\'s that all danger was over. Mrs. Rane was in a refreshing sleep, and going on safely to recovery.

"And I\'m downright glad of it, poor young lady!" said Jelly, half aloud, as she turned in at her gate. "Doctors\' wives are naturally more exposed to the chance of catching infectious illnesses. But on the other hand they have the best advice and care at hand."

It was striking one. Letting herself in with the latch-key, Jelly felt for the box of matches, passing her hand cautiously over the marble table. And passed it in vain: no matches were there.

"Forgetful hussy!" ejaculated Jelly, apostrophizing the unconscious Dinah. "Much good she\'s of!"

So Jelly crept quietly upstairs in the dark, knowing she had matches in her own chamber: and in a minute came upon another of the negligent Dinah\'s delinquencies. She had omitted to draw down the blind of the large window on the landing.

"She has been out at that back-door, talking to people," quoth Jelly in her wrath. "Just like her! Won\'t she catch it from me in the morning!"

Turning to draw the blind herself, she was suddenly arrested, with the cord in her hand, by something on the opposite landing, at Dr. Rane\'s. Standing there, dressed in something white, which Jelly at the time thought looked like a nightgown, was Mrs. Rane. The landing was faintly lighted, as if by some distant candle; but Mrs. Rane was perfectly visible, her features and even their expression quite clear. The first thought that crossed Jelly was, that Mrs. Rane was delirious: but she looked too still for that. She did not move; and the eyes gazed with a fixed stare, as it seemed to Jelly. But that she herself must have been invisible in the surrounding darkness, she would have thought Mrs. Rane was staring at her. For a full minute this lasted: Jelly watching, Mrs. Rane never moving.

"What in the world brings her standing there?" quoth Jelly in her amazement. "And what can she be staring at? It can\'t be at me."

But at that moment Jelly\'s bag slipped from her arm, and fell on the carpet. It caused her to remove her gaze from the opposite landing for a single second--it really did not seem longer. When she looked again, the place was in darkness: Mrs. Rane and the faint light had both disappeared.

"She has no business to be out of her bed--and the doctor ought to tell her so if he\'s at home," thought Jelly. "Anyway, she must be a great deal better: for I don\'t think it\'s delirium."

She waited a short time, but nothing more was seen. Drawing down the blind, Jelly picked up her bag, and passed on to her own chamber--one of the back rooms on this first floor. There she slept undisturbed until morning.

She did not get up until late. Being amenable to no one whilst Mrs. Cumberland was away, the house\'s mistress in fact, as well as Dinah\'s, Jelly did not hurry herself. She was not lazy in general, especially on a Saturday, but as she felt tired after her weary afternoon at Ketler\'s and from having gone so late to rest. Breakfast was ready in the kitchen when she went down; Dinah--a red-faced young woman in a brown-spotted cotton gown--being busy at the fire with the coffee.

"Now then!" began Jelly--her favourite phrase when she was angry. "What have you to say for yourself? Whereabouts on the slab did you put those matches last night?"

Dinah, taken-to, tilted the kettle back. Until that moment she had not thought of her negligence.

"I\'m afraid I never put \'em at all," she said.

"No you didn\'t put \'em," retorted Jelly with sharp emphasis. "But for having matches and a candle in my room, I must have undressed in the dark. And I should like to know why you didn\'t put \'em; and what you were about not to do it?"

"I\'m sure I\'m sorry," said Dinah, who was a tractable sort of girl. "I forgot it, I suppose, in the upset about poor Mrs. Rane."

"In the upset about poor Mrs. Rane," scornfully repeated Jelly. "What upset you, pray, about her?--And you\'ve never been out to fasten back the shutters!"

"She\'s dead," answered Dinah--and the tears came into the girl\'s eyes. "That\'s what I\'ve got the shutters half-to for. I thought you\'d most likely not have heard it."

A little confusion arose in Jelly\'s mind. Thought is rapid. Mrs. Rane\'s death, as she supposed, could not possibly have occurred before morning: the neglect, as to the matches, was last night. But, in the present shock she passed this over. Her sharp tone disappeared as by magic: her expression changed to sadness.

"Dead? When did she die, Dinah?"

"It was about nine o\'clock last night, they think. And she lay an hour after that in her bed, Jelly, before it was found out."

On hearing this, Jelly\'s first impression was that Dinah must be trifling with her. The girl came from the fire with the coffee, the tears visible.

"Now what d\'ye mean, girl? Mrs. Rane didn\'t die last night--as I can answer for."

"Oh but she did, Jelly. Dr. Rane went up to her at ten o\'clock--he had been out till then--and found her dead. I can tell you, I didn\'t half like going all the way up to bed by myself to that top floor, and me alone in the house, knowing she was lying there at the very next door."

Jelly paused to take in the full sense of the words, staring the while at Dinah. What could it all mean?

"You must have taken leave of your senses," she said, as she began to pour out the coffee.

"I\'m sure I\'ve not," returned Dinah. "Why?"

"To tell me Mrs. Rane died last night. How did you pick up the tale?"

"Jelly, it\'s no tale. It\'s as true as you and me\'s here. I was standing at the front gate for a breath of air, before shutting-up, when Dr. Rane came out of his house in a hurry, and went across to Mr. Seeley\'s. It struck me that Mrs. Rane might be worse and that he had gone to fetch the other, so I stayed a bit to see. Presently--it wasn\'t long--he came back across the road again. Mr. Francis Dallory happened to be passing, and he asked after Mrs. Rane. She was dead, the doctor said; and went on to tell him how he had found her. You needn\'t look as if you thought I was making-up stories, Jelly. They stood close by the doctor\'s gate, and I heard every word."

Jelly did not precisely know how she looked. If this was true, why--what could be the meaning of what she had seen in the night?

"She can\'t be dead?"

"She is," said Dinah. "Why should you dispute it?"

Jelly did riot say why. She drank her hot coffee, and went out. She did not believe it. Dinah evidently did: but the girl might have caught up some wrong story.

The first thing that struck Jelly, when outside, was the appearance of the doctor\'s house. It was closely shut up, doors and windows, and the blinds were down. As Jelly stood, looking up, she saw Mr. Seeley standing at his door without his hat. She went over and accosted him.

"Is it true, sir, that Mrs. Rane is dead?"

"Quite true," was the answer. "She died yesterday evening, poor lady. It was terribly sudden."

Jelly felt a very queer sensation come over her. But she was still full of disbelief. Mr. Seeley was called from within, and Jelly returned and knocked softly at Dr. Rane\'s door. Phillis opened it, her eyes red with crying.

"Phillis, what is all this?" demanded Jelly, in low tones. &quo............