He had heard stories of
that strange effect of terror which could wipe a human countenance clean
of other emotions, obliterating all previous expressions; but he had
never realised that it could be literally true, or could mean anything
so simply horrible as what he now saw. For the dreadful signature of
overmastering fear was written plainly in that utter vacancy of the
girlish face beside him; and when, feeling his intense gaze, she turned
to look at him, he instinctively closed his eyes tightly to shut out the
sight.
Yet, when he turned a minute later, his feelings well in hand, he saw to
his intense relief another expression; his aunt was smiling, and though
the face was deathly white, the awful veil had lifted and the normal
look was returning.
"Anything wrong?" was all he could think of to say at the moment. And
the answer was eloquent, coming from such a woman.
"I feel cold--and a little frightened," she whispered.
He offered to close the window, but she seized hold of him and begged
him not to leave her side even for an instant.
"It's upstairs, I know," she whispered, with an odd half laugh; "but I
can't possibly go up.
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