"When do you expect him?" asked Patricia, anxious to turn the conversation, which had taken a mystical turn of which she did not approve.
"He may be here at any minute. Father said that he received a letter by the mid-day post. I like Basil; I love Basil, and I am glad he is coming."
"Let us ask Mr. Colpster when he will arrive," said Patricia, rising.
She moved two steps towards the door, but before she could reach it, Theodore had placed himself before her. "Don't go, Miss Carrol," he entreated, "just wait for a few minutes. Perhaps you don't like the darkness, so I shall light the lamp." He walked towards the tall brass pedestal.
"You need not be in a hurry, Patricia," said the voice of Mara out of the gloom, "it will be an hour before Basil appears."
Patricia sat down again, although her instinct told her to fly from this room and the evil influences with which it was impregnated. "I shall wait for a few minutes," she said, determined not to be cowardly; "but do let us talk of more healthy things, Mr. Dane."
The lamp was lighted by this time, and its radiance spread gradually through the room, as the wick was turned up. Patricia felt more comfortable in the flood of cheerful light, although the shadows still lurked in the corners. Silent and pale, in her deep chair sat Mara, but her cousin moved about the room actively and brightly: with an effort, however, as it seemed from the glimpse she caught of his eyes. These were filled with a vague terror, and he frequently moistened his dry lips. Nevertheless, he began to talk lightly and discursively about this, that, and the other thing, evidently anxious to keep his guests. He described the neighbourhood to Patricia, and the people who dwelt therein. He advised her to make excursions round about with Mara, and examine old rocking-stones and the remains of British villages and Phoenician towers. He extolled the healthiness of the place, and the beauty of its landscapes, and finally promised to take the two girls out in a sailing-boat. "Oh, we can give you much pleasure here, in spite of our isolation, Miss Carrol," he declared, with laboured gaiety, "and in spite of this danger which Mara says that I stand in. Who is going to hurt me, Mara?" he asked with assumed lightness, but real eagerness.
"No one," she replied quietly; "but"--she drew her hand across her face and said peevishly, "I wish you wouldn't ask me silly questions."
"You have told me such silly things," retorted Theodore snappishly. "You mustn't mind what Mara says, Miss Carrol: she does nothing but dream."
"We must rouse her out of such dreaming, Mr. Dane."