But Irene's voice died away for some extraordinary reason, and Rosamund for the time was left in peace. She drew the chair near the window, took up Kingsley's _Hypatia_ from the shelf, and tried to interest herself in a story which always had the deepest fascination for her. But by-and-by sleep overpowered her young eyes, and she only awakened from it by hearing a very gentle tap at her door. She went to it and called out, "Who is there?"