"Who—is—that?" she reiterated, emphatically.

No answer.

"Aunt Legare!—Mathilde!—Jet!—Who is it?"

No reply. But the tall, black-robed woman standing motionless, and pointing with spectral finger to the spot on the floor!

"Oh! dear me! Agnes, Agnes!"

I answered:

"What, my dear?"

"Have you opened the door?"

"No, love."

"Have you been up at all since you laid down?"