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to her room and read for another hour, or go on? But as she hesitated she was suddenly aware that some one else was in the garden not far away from her. Along the path towards the veranda a shadowy form was passing. For a second Ann believed that she had been seen, and recognized, for the figure halted and stood rigid, then turned from the house, and with uncertain steps came forward. As the moonlight shone on the advancing woman’s face, Ann knew that it could only be by chance that the draped figure stumbled towards the spot where she was standing; for Vera Holmes’s eyes were closed. She was walking in her sleep.

Ann had been warned of this, but it was her first vision of a sleep-walker; and in the shadowy garden where the tree-tops whispered eerily under the stars, the sight was uncanny, and more than a little terrifying. Quickly into her mind flashed remembrance of what Mrs. Holmes had said when discussing her insomnia. “Don’t wake me—lead me back to bed.” Mastering her fear, Ann took the figure by the arm, very gently, so that she might not waken the sleeper, and together they moved slowly towards the house. Would she be able to mount to the veranda, Ann wondered? Yes! After a moment’s hesitation Vera Holmes’s slippered foot had found the step, and they were together near the bedroom window. Ann could feel beneath her hand the woman’s arm shaking as if with ague—all her body under the silk wrapper was trembling. Then all at once she seemed to waken. Her eyes opened, and she stared at Ann in terror. Something in the wild eyes moved Ann’s heart to a sharp pity. She took the trembling figure in her strong young arms, and held her tight.