Maude stared at her visitor with some alarm.
'If you take an interest in Captain Elliot, it is a pity,' continued the latter.
'Interest—pity?' questioned Maude, rising now, and drawing near to the handle of the bell.
'Take my advice in time, and don't touch that!' said her strange visitor with sudden insolence of manner, while something of malevolence and triumph sparkled in her dark eyes.
'You must be mad, or——'
'Tipsy, you would say—I am neither; but I have that to say which you may not wish to furnish gossip for your servants, so do not summon them until I am gone.'
'Will you be so kind as to state at once the object of your visit?' said Maude, with as much hauteur as she could summon to her aid.
'So you are his wife—a doll like you! Mrs. Elliot of Braidielee, you think yourself!' said the woman mockingly; 'I fear I have that to tell which your dainty ears will not find very pleasant. But "gather ye rosebuds while ye may;" for ere long only the leaves, dead and without fragrance, will be left you!'
Maude felt herself grow pale and tremble; she knew that there was a great lunatic asylum somewhere in that quarter of the city, and began to fear that her visitor was an escaped patient. She moved a step towards the bell again, and cast a lingering, longing glance at it, on which the woman again said sharply:
'Don't! Listen to me, I tell you!'