the fine old Hulett place without the exchange of a single word.
"Now carry me in," said Mrs. Purdon briefly, evidently hoarding her strength.
"Wouldn't I better go and see if Miss Hulett is at home?" I asked.
Mrs. Purdon shook her head impatiently and turned her compelling eyes on my husband. I went up the path before them to knock at the door, wondering what the people in the house would possibly be thinking of us. There was no answer to my knock. "Open the door and go in," commanded Mrs. Purdon from out her quilt.
There was no one in the spacious, white-paneled hall, and no sound in all the big, many-roomed house.
"Emma's out feeding the hens," conjectured Mrs. Purdon, not, I fancied, without a faint hint of relief in her voice. "Now carry me up-stairs to the first room on the right."
Half hidden by his burden, Paul rolled wildly inquiring eyes at me; but he obediently staggered up the broad old staircase, and, waiting till I had opened the first door to the right, stepped into the big bedroom.
"Put me down on the bed, and open them shutters," Mrs. Purdon commanded.
She still marshaled her forces with no lack of decision, but with a fainting voice which made me run over to her quickly as Paul laid her down on the four-poster. Her eyes were still indomitable, but her mouth hung open slackly and her color was startling. "Oh, Paul, quick! quick! Haven't you your flask with you?"
Mrs. Purdon informed me in a barely audible whisper, "In the corner cupboard at the head of the stairs," and
