"Sit down," I answered; "you will not be fit long to nurse anyone unless you look after yourself. What is the matter with you? You are greatly changed!"
"Did I not tell you in my letter that I am in great trouble?"
Miss Temple's words were interrupted by a knock at the door of the boudoir.
She said "Come in," and a manservant entered. He approached Lady Violet's little writing-table, disturbed a book or two, and finally retreated with an "A B C" in his hand, apologizing as he did so.
"Do you know who that man is?" asked Miss Temple.
"HE APPROACHED LADY VIOLET'S WRITING-DESK AND DISTURBED A BOOK OR TWO."
"One of the servants," I replied; "never mind him—tell me your trouble as quickly as possible."
"He is connected with it, unfortunately. He is not one of the usual servants of the house, although he wears the livery. That man is a detective from Scotland Yard, and he came into the room just now to watch me. He, or his fellow detective, for there are two here, watch me wherever I go. On one excuse or another, they enter each room where I am found."
"What do you mean?" I asked.