Mrs. Underwood gave a little gasp.

“I don’t know, I’m sure. Well, really it’s nothing. It’s such a very warm day, don’t you think?”

“I think that something has frightened you,” said Miss Silver, “and I think that you had better tell me about it. If we share our troubles we halve them.”

Mabel Underwood drew a long breath. With a sudden drop into simplicity she said,

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

Miss Silver smiled. She said,

“I can believe anything, Mrs. Underwood.”

But the moment of simplicity had passed. The pearls rose and fell rapidly.

“I’m sure I can’t think why I said that. Girls do walk in their sleep once in a way, and it’s nothing to make a to-do about.”

“Has your niece been walking in her sleep?”

“Oh, no-not Meade. But I’m sure if it were, it wouldn’t be at all surprising, poor girl, after all she’s been through.”

Miss Silver had picked up her knitting again. The needles clicked encouragement.

“Indeed?”

“Oh, yes. She was torpedoed, you know-at least the ship was. She took her brother’s children out to America last year, after he was killed in France. Their mother is American, and she was out there visiting her people and quite distracted, poor thing, so Meade took the children out to her. And then, of course, she couldn’t get home again, not till June. And the ship was torpedoed and she was all smashed up, poor girl, and lost her fiancé as well-at least they hadn’t given it out, but she met him in the States. He was on one of those hush-hush missions- something about tanks, I believe, but perhaps I oughtn’t to say so, though I don’t suppose it matters now, because he was drowned. Of course it was a most dreadful shock for Meade.”