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"Suppose," she said, stopping for a moment in the doorway, and shielding
the flame of the candle from a current of air with a little hand that
was so beautifully lighted that for a moment it attracted Ralph's eyes
from its owner's face, "you wait here for a minute, and I will go up and
see if she is really safe in her own room. I am sure you will be better
satisfied if you know that."
Ralph looked his thanks, and softly, but quickly, she went up the stairs.
At a little landing she stopped.
"Do you know," she whispered, looking back, with the candle throwing her
head and hair into the prettiest lights and shadows, "I think this
stairway is lovely;" and then she went on and disappeared.
In a few minutes she leaned over the upper part of the banisters and
softly spoke to him.
"She is sleeping as sweetly and as quietly as the dearest of angels. I do
not believe I shall disturb her in the least. Good-night, Mr. Haverley."
And with her face thrown into a new light,--this time by the hall lamp
below,--she smiled ever so sweetly, and then drew back her head.


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