, 1858-11-05

silent house,-my selEpossessiOn, my sense Of
my own identity, altogether failed me.
crouched upon the bare floor in the bare
room. struggled to separate myself from the
woes into which plunged "the wife" of my
Imagination. Icould not-intense emotion over
powered me. Sick with anguish, cried out,
Husband, husbandI Good God this is more
than l can bearl"
covered my face; that cry had startled me
back to myself and great terror came over me /;
| had always been timid of night and darkness.
As l continued to crouch there, covering my
face, it seemed to me that something stirred in
the room, that chill breath famed my neck and
arms. raised my head, seeking light
Ny candle had burned OUT was alone in
stirring darkness-the thick darkness of close
shuttered room. strained my eyes into it; l
seemed chained to the spot
Suddenly my excited fancy made my husband
present to me, standing in the middle Of the
room, regarding me. He was pale; his express
sion was reproachful, his form spectral.
Ispread out my arms towards him; my senses
failed me, my last consciousness being Of a blow
and fash Of pain.
Daylight was streaming through all cracks and
crevices when recovered. found myself lying
with my face upon the floor. ! sat up with diff
Guilty, and turned sick and dizzy when saw a
pool Of blood close to where my face had lain
By-and-by managed to get to my bedroom,
and after washing my stained brow, discovered
a small, but deep wound on my temple. had
fallen against sharp iron-bOund corner Of the
box which had used as a desk.
l did not distinctly recall what had frightened
me. felt terribly weak, and lay on my bed
quite still for several hours Then rang and
ordered Ann to bring me some coffee into iny
room. Ny window was darkened, and she seem-
ed to notice nothing particular in my appear
ance told her Twas not very well, and did not
wish to be disturbed.
The hot, strong coffee revived me wonderfully,
and my thoughts returned to my all but finished
work.
Ny book was not to be Tragedy; It was to
end quietly and peacefully, perfectly, as a beau
tiful summer day. l laughed softly over the
happiness Of this summery ending, and the tears
rained from my eyes. sat close to the open
window on that lovely day, in deliciOusly sub
dued and sympathetic mood, and wrote my bliss
full concluding chapters.
With one brief interruption only continued
to write till late in the afternoon. no longer
wrote with haste and passion, but as remember,
with quiet sense Of perfect power.
had finished. said thank God"
My heroine was happy now, and my heart
cravcdlike happiness clamorously. snake haste
and come home, Kenelm!" cried.
went down stairs to hunt for string, wax,
and stamps; my book must be Immediately sent
off,
On my workable lay letter from my hus-
band. How long had it lain there unopened?
pressed it to my lips and to my bosom before
read it.
It said he would be home this EVENING" What
happinessl This evening at seven, it said what
time could It be now?
Even as wondered our clock struck-seven.
There l stood in my loose, tumbled white
dressing-gown, my hair wildly disOrdered, my
hands stained with ink, and my cheeks with
teais. l could not move; it was like dreadful
nightmare dream.
Ny head began to ache .maddeningly.
thought how none Of my intended preparations
for Kenelm's return were made; and Twas
fit to meet himP Ipressed my hand upon my
brow; unwittingS displaced the plaster upon
my wound, from which the blood began again to
trickle.
IwOuld have given years of life to recall one
hour then.
Iheard the garden gate. saw Kenelm come
up the path, and still ! could not move.
The room door opened and admitted my hus-
band.
He paused in sad amazement. His face was
like the face had seen in my vision, which now
wildly returned to me. tried to believe this
was a vision, too. His form seemed to waver
and flicker, and black gulf opened at my feet
Both my husband and Ann were standing over
me when rcgained consciousness; when raised
myself on the couch, Ann disappeared.
81 am so sOry-so grieved," began; "T did
not expect you yet. ! had only just read your
letter, and"
"Do not talk nOw-rcst, love. Was this just
doneG"
"NO; struck my head just now, and"-
any poor wounded darlingl"
had no need to make excuses. He cared for
me tonight instead Of for him, yet he looked
very trayel-wOrn and i'll. He dressed my wound
with tender fingers, and said many tender words
But he looked very sad, and could not bear to
L., n a..A