Dormy was very quick. He was still holding my hand, and he pinched it to stop my replying.
"Rubbish!" he said. "I am speaking to Leila quietly, and she is coming up to my room while I undress. Good night, Sophy."
"Tell mamma Dormy really wants me," I added, and then Sophy departed.
"We musn't tell her, Leila," said the boy. "She'd have 'sterics."
"Whom shall we tell?" I said, for I was beginning to feel very helpless and upset.
"Nobody, to-night," he replied sensibly. "You mustn't go in there," and he shivered a little as he moved his head towards the gallery; "you're not fit for it, and they'd be wanting you to. Wait till the morning and then I'd—I think I'd tell Philip first. You needn't be frightened to-night, sister. It won't stop you sleeping. It didn't me the time I saw it before."
He was right. I slept dreamlessly. It was as if the intense nervous strain of those few minutes had utterly exhausted me.
PART II.
Phil is our soldier brother. And there is nothing fanciful about him! He is a rock of sturdy common-sense and unfailing good nature. He was the very best person to confide our strange secret to, and my respect for Dormy increased.
We did tell him—the very next morning. He listened very attentively, only putting in a question here and there, and though, of course, he was incredulous—had I not been so myself?—he was not mocking.