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 to her from far away over the snow; and she seemed to see him, when she shut her eyes, lying stretched out, with Lad sniffing over him. She clung to the dog when she switched off her light, and she dragged him to the window with her while she gazed out over the lake, looking for a light on Resurrection Rock; but the night gave her only blackness except for the stars, and except for a square of yellow light on the snow almost immediately below her own windows.

She thought at first, as she gazed down at it, that her grandfather had left a lamp burning below; then she observed that could not be so, but that the light came from overhead, from an attic window where some flickering flame, such as a candle, was burning.

The attic was merely a storeroom, unused by any one. Who would be up there now? Miss Platt's husband? For what purpose?

Ethel went from her room to the steep stairs which led from the second-floor hall to a trapdoor letting into the garret. What she meant to say to Kincheloe, or what she intended to do, she did not yet know; but she climbed and pushed up the trapdoor quietly and entered the bare, unplastered space under the roof.

The electric lights, which had been supplied to the lower rooms, had not been installed here, and of course there was no heat. The space, called a storeroom, had become a repository for all the dilapidated furniture to which old people cling, for their children's cradles and rocking-horses and chairs which had been brought to St. Florentin years ago for Ethel and the other grandchildren. Ethel could see these things in the light of the lantern which stood upon the top of an up-ended trunk. She could hear some one tearing paper; but she could not see who it was till she pro-