“‘Go and say to your master that I would feel much obliged if he would come to me here,’ she said, grimly seating herself.
“The trembling old man went to the kennels, where Mr. Dubarry was busy doctoring a favorite setter, and delivered his message. Dubarry was still enough in love with his three months wife to come quickly at her call.
“‘Philip!’ exclaimed the lady, as soon as she saw him enter the room, ‘once for all, I wish to know who is this girl in the red cloak; and why I am daily insulted with her presence in this house?’
“Dubarry went pale, as usual at the mention of the apparition; but he faltered out with what composure he could command:
“‘I—I told you who she is—Milly Jones.’
“‘No; begging your pardon, she is not Milly Jones. Milly Jones has been ill with pleurisy, at home on the mountain, for the last two weeks; and I have sent her a pension of two dollars a week. No; this is no Milly Jones, and I insist on knowing who she is!’
“‘Then, if she is not Milly Jones, she is a creature of your own imagination, for no other living girl comes to the house,’ answered Dubarry doggedly.
“‘You will not tell me who she is? Very well. When next I see her, she shall tell me, silent as she is,’ said the lady grimly setting her teeth.
“Dubarry arose with a sigh, and went back to his ailing setter; but his thoughts brooded over the subject of the apparition.
“The lady kept her word at a fearful cost. For the remainder of the day, her conduct towards her husband was so cold and repelling as to wound and offend him. So it happened that when the hour for retiring came that night, she went up to her chamber alone. She had but time to reach the room, when all the household was startled by a piercing shriek and a heavy fall.