She never looked behind. Out at the front-door went she, slamming it, in her terror, to keep in what might be following her; and she almost gave forth another scream when she found herself touched by some one coming in at the gate, and saw that it was Dr. Rane.
"I am called out to a country patient," he quietly said. "Whilst I was putting the horse to the gig, an impression came over me that I had left my house-door open, so I thought I had better come back and see. What are you doing here at this hour, Jelly? Any one ill?"
Jelly was in terrible distress and confusion of mind. Clutching his arm as if for protection, she sobbed for an instant or two hysterically. Dr. Rane stared at her, not knowing what to make of it. He began to think she must require his services herself.
"Sir--do you know--do you know who is in the house?"
"Nobody's there: unless they've come in these last few minutes--for I suppose I did leave the door open," was Dr. Rane's rejoinder, and his composure contrasted strongly with Jelly's emotion. "When I leave my house at night, I carry my household with me, Jelly."
"Your wife's there," she whispered, with a burst of agony. "Sir, it's as true as that I am living to tell it."
"What do you say?"
Jelly's answer was to relate what she had seen. When Dr. Rane had gathered in her full meaning, he grew very angry.
"Why, you must be mad, woman," he cried in a low concentrated voice. "This is the second time. How dare you invent such folly?"
"I swear that her ghost walks, and that it is in there now," exclaimed Jelly, almost beside herself. "It is on the landing, exactly where I saw it before. Why should she come again?--why should she haunt that one particular spot? Sir, don't look at me like that. You know I would not invent such a thing."