of the dead： In her form like the other； In her walk like the
other： Why does she come？
〃Does Destiny bring her？ Shall we range together The mazes of the
past？ Shall we search together The secrets of the past？ Shall we
interchange thoughts； surmises； suspicions？ Does Destiny bring
her？
〃The Future will show。 Let the night pass； Let the day come。 I
shall see into Her mind： She will look into Mine。 The Future will
show。〃
His voice sank； his fingers touched the strings more and more
feebly as he approached the last lines。 The overwrought brain
needed and took its reanimating repose。 At the final words his
eyes slowly closed。 His head lay back on the chair。 He slept with
his arms around his harp； as a child sleeps hugging its last new
toy。
We stole out of the room on tiptoe； and left Miserrimus
Dexterpoet； composer； and madmanin his peaceful sleep。
CHAPTER XXVI。
MORE OF MY OBSTINACY。
ARIEL was downstairs in the shadowy hall； half asleep； half
awake； waiting to see the visitors clear of the house。 Without
speaking to us； without looking at us； she led the way down the
dark garden walk； and locked the gate behind us。 〃Good…night；
Ariel；〃 I called out to her over the paling。 Nothing answered me
but the tramp of her heavy footsteps returning to the house； and
the dull thump； a moment afterward； of the closing door。
The footman had thoughtfully lighted the carriage lamps。 Carrying
one of them to serve as a lantern； he lighted us over the wilds
of the brick desert； and landed us safely on the path by the
high…road。
〃Well！〃 said my mother…in…law； when we were comfortably seated in
the carriage again。 〃You have seen Miserrimus Dexter； and I hope
you are satisfied。 I will do him the justice to declare that I
never； in all my experience； saw him more completely crazy than
he was to…night。 What do _you_ say？〃
〃I don't presume to dispute your opinion；〃 I answered。 〃But；
speaking for myself； I'm not quite sure that he is mad。〃
〃Not mad！〃 cried Mrs。 Macallan； 〃after those frantic performances
in his chair？ Not mad； after the exhibition he made of his
unfortunate cousin？ Not mad； after the song that he sang in your
honor； and the falling asleep by way of conclusion？ Oh； Valeria！
Valeria！ Well said the wisdom of our ancestorsthere are none so
blind as those who won't see。〃
〃Pardon me； dear Mrs。 Macallan； I saw everything that you
mention； and I never felt more surprised or more confounded in my
life。 But now I have recovered from my amazement； and can think
it over quietly； I must still venture to doubt whether this
strange man is really mad in the true meaning of the word。 It
seems to me that he only expressesI admit in a very reckless
and boisterous waythoughts and feelings which most of us are
ashamed of as weaknesses； and which we keep to ourselves
accordingly。 I confess I have often fancied myself transformed
into some other person； and have felt a certain pleasure in
seeing myself in my new character。 One of our first amusements as
children （if we have any imagination at all） is to get out of our
own characters； and to try the characters of other personages as
a changeto fairies； to be queens； to be anything； in short； but
what we really are。 Mr。 Dexter lets out the secret just as the
children do； and if that is madness； he is certainly mad。 But I
noticed that when his imagination cooled down he became
Miserrimus Dexter againhe no more believed himself than we
believed him to be Napoleon or Shakespeare。 Besides； some
allowance is surely to be made for the solitary； sedentary life
that he leads。 I am not learned enough to trace the influence of
that life in making him what he is； but I think I can see the
result in an over…excited imagination； and I fancy I can trace
his exhibiting his power over the poor cousin and his singing of
that wonderful song to no more formidable cause than inordinate
self…conceit。 I hope the confession will not lower me seriously
in your good opinion； but I must say I have enjoyed my visit；
and； worse still； Miserrimus Dexter really interests me。〃
〃Does this learned discourse on Dexter mean that you are going to
see him again？〃 asked Mrs。 Macallan。
〃I don't know how I may feel about it tomorrow morning；〃 I said；
〃but my impulse at this moment is decidedly to see him again。 I
had a little talk with him while you were away at the other end
of the room； and I believe he really can be of use to me〃
〃Of use to you in what？〃 interposed my mother…in…law。
〃In the one object which I have in viewthe object； dear Mrs。
Macallan； which I regret to say you do not approve。〃
〃And you are going to take him into your confidence？ to open your
whole mind to such a man as the man we have just left？〃
〃Yes； if I think of it to…morrow as I think of it to…night。 I
dare say it is a risk； but I must run risks。 I know I am not
prudent； but prudence won't help a woman in my position； with my
end to gain。〃
Mrs。 Macallan made no further remonstrance in words。 She opened a
capacious pocket in front of the carriage； and took from it a box
of matches and a railway reading…lamp。
〃You provoke me；〃 said the old lady； 〃into showing you what your
husband thinks of this new whim of yours。 I have got his letter
with mehis last letter from Spain。 You shall judge for
yourself； you poor deluded young creature； whether my son is
worthy of the sacrificethe useless and hopeless
sacrificewhich you are bent on making of yourself for his sake。
Strike a light！〃
I willingly obeyed her。 Ever since she had informed me of
Eustace's departure to Spain I had been eager for more news of
him； for something to sustain my spirits； after so much that had
disappointed and depressed me。 Thus far I did not even know
whether my husband thought of me sometimes in his self…imposed
exile。 As to this regretting already the rash act which had
separated us； it was still too soon to begin hoping for that。
The lamp having been lighted； and fixed in its place between the
two front windows of the carriage； Mrs。 Macallan produced her
son's letter。 There is no folly like the folly of love。 It cost
me a hard struggle to restrain myself from kissing the paper on
which the dear hand had rested。
〃There！〃 said my mother…in…law。 〃Begin on the second page； the
page devoted to you。 Read straight down to the last line at the
bottom； and； in God's name； come back to your senses； child；
before it is too late！〃
I followed my instructions； and read these words：
〃Can I trust myself to write of Valeria？ I _must_ write of her。
Tell me how she is； how she looks； what she is doing。 I am always
thinking of her。 Not a day passes but I mourn the loss of her。
Oh； if she had only been contented to let matters rest as they
were！ Oh； if she had never discovered the miserable truth！
〃She spoke of reading the Trial when I saw her last。 Has she
persisted in doing so？ I believeI say this seriously； motherI
believe the shame and the horror of it would have been the death
of me if I had met her face to face when she first knew of the
ignominy that I have suffered； of the infamous suspicion of which
I have been publicly made the subject。 Think of those pure eyes
looking at a man who has been accus ed （and never wholly
absolved） of the foulest and the vilest of all murders； and then
think of what that man must feel if he have any heart and any
sense of shame left in him。 I sicken as I write of it。
〃Does she still meditate that hopeless projectthe offspring；
poor angel； of her artless； unthinking generosity？ Does she still
fancy that it is in _her_ power to assert my innocence before the
world？ Oh； mother （if she do）； use your utmost influence to make
her give up the idea！ Spare her the humiliation； the
disappointment； the insult； perhaps； to which she may innocently
expose herself。 For her sake； for my sake； leave no means untried
to attain this righteous； this merciful end。
〃I send her no messageI dare not do it。 Say nothing； when you
see her； which can recall me to her memory。 On the contrary； help
her to forget me as soon as possible。 The kindest thing I can
dothe one atonement I can make to heris to drop out of her
life。〃
With those wretched words it ended。 I handed his letter back to
his mother in silence。 She said but little on her side。
〃If _this_ doesn't discourage you；〃 she remarked； slowly folding
up the letter； 〃nothing will。 Let us leave it there； and say no
more。〃
I made no answerI was crying behind my veil。 My domestic
prospect looked so dreary！ my unfortunate husband was so
hopelessly misguided； so pitiably wrong！ The one chance for both
of us； and the one consolation for poor Me； was to hold to my
desperate resolution more firmly than ever。 If I had wanted
anything to confirm me in this view； and to arm me against the
remonstrances of every one of my friends； Eustace's letter would
have proved more than sufficient to answer the purpose。 At least
he had not forgotten me； he thought of me； and he mourned the
loss of me every day of his life。 That was encouragement
enoughfor the present。 〃If Ariel calls for me in the
pony…chaise to…morrow；〃 I thought to myself； 〃with Ariel I go。〃
Mrs。 Macallan set me down at Benjamin's door。
I mentioned to her at partingI stood sufficiently in awe of her
to put it off till the last momentthat Miserrimus Dexter had
arranged to send his cousin and his pony…chaise to her residence
on the next day； and I inquired thereupon whether my
mother…in…law would permit me to call at her house to wait for
the appearance of the cousin； or whether she would prefer sending
the chaise on to Benjamin's cottage。 I fully expected an
explosion of anger to follow this bold avowal of my plans for the
next day。 The old lady agreeably surprised me。 She proved that
she had really taken a liking to me： she kept her temper。
〃If you persist in going back to Dexter； you certainly shall not
go to him from my door；〃 she said。 〃But I hope you will _not_
persist。 I hope you will awake a wiser woman to…morrow morning。〃
The morning came。 A little before noon the arrival of the
pony…chaise was announced at the door； and a letter was brought
in to me from Mrs。 Macallan。
〃I have no righ