No sound--no noise.

Only by-and-by she heard, what we have all heard at such times of intent listening, the beating of the pulses of her heart, and then the whirling rush of blood through her head.

How long did this last?
She never knew.
By-and-by she heard her father's hurried footstep in his bedroom, next to hers; but when she ran thither to speak to him, and ask him what was amiss--if anything had been--if she might come to him now about Mr.
Livingstone's letter, she found that he had gone down again to his study, and almost at the same moment she heard the little private outer door of that room open; some one went out, and then there were hurried footsteps along the shrubbery-path.

She thought, of course, that it was Mr.
Dunster leaving the house; and went back for Mr.Livingstone's letter.
Having found it, she passed through her father's room to the private staircase, thinking that if she went by the more regular way, she would have run the risk of disturbing Miss Monro, and perhaps of being questioned in the morning.

Even in passing down this remote staircase, she trod softly for fear of being overheard.