CHAPTER XV.
IN THE IRONING-ROOM.
"Will you allow me to repose a word of confidence in you, Miss Hereford, and at the same time to tender an apology?"
Playing a little bit of quiet harmony, reading a little, musing a little, half an hour had passed, and I was leaning my back against the frame of the open window. Mr. Chandos had come across the grass unheard by me, and took me by surprise.
I turned, and stammered forth "Yes." His tones were cautious and low, as though he feared eavesdroppers, though no one was within hearing; or could have been, without being seen.
"You accused me of wandering out there last night," he began, sitting on the stone ledge of the window outside, his face turned to me, "and I rashly denied it to you. As it is within the range of possibility that you may see me there again at the same ghostly hour, I have been deliberating whether it may not be the wiser plan to impart to you the truth. You have heard of sleepwalkers?"
"Yes," I replied, staring at him.
"What will you say if I acknowledge to being one?"
Of course I did not know what to say, and stood there like a statue, looking foolish. The thought that rushed over my heart was, what an unhappy misfortune to attend the sensible and otherwise attractive Mr. Chandos.
"You see," he continued, "when you spoke, I did not know I had been out, and denied it, really believing you were mistaken."
"And do you positively walk in your sleep, sir?—go out of your room, out of the locked doors of the house, and pace the grounds?" I breathlessly exclaimed.