A Mere Accident

you ill? Why, Miss, you haven't taken y

I have had frightful

eadful, Miss. Shall I tell Mr Hare? Per

I did not sleep, that I am going to lie down for a littl

at it would be as well fo

g to lie down, and I a

, Miss? Shall I leave

ch was suggested, but which eluded her. Then her face relaxed, the expression was one of pitiful desp

he water, and its echoes were repe

lete that the effect was equivalent to a re-enduring of the crime, and with a foreknowledge of it, as if to sharpen its horror and increase the sense of the pollution. The lovely hills, the engirdling sea, the sweet glow of evening-she saw it all again. And as if afraid that her brain, now strained like a body on the r

ushed to the door where her dressing gown was hanging, and wrapped herself

e mattress as if she would rub away, free herself from her loathed self. T

as another suffering added to the ever increasing stress of mind, and now

d locked the door. Again sh

le. She could not have opened the door to him, and the effort required to speak a few words, to say she was tired and wished to be left alone, was so great that it almost cost her her reason. It was a great relief to hear him go. She asked h

e fierceness of the fever of passion and horror that raged within her. The homeliness of t

remembrance. She pressed her face against the pane. The wide sea, so

f the canary was mixed with thoughts of her dead brothers and sisters, of her mother

er wholly dead. She was a lost soul wandering on those desolate hills, the gloom descending, and Brighton and Southwick and Shoreham and Worthing gleaming along the sea banks of a purple sea. There were phantoms-there were two phantoms. One turned to reality, and she walked by her lover's si

ootsteps on the staircase; she begged to b

till under its soothing influence, she pinned up her hair, settled the ribbons of her

Kitty!" the

essed?" said Mr Hare. "But what is the matter....

g the outstretched hand with a shudder, she took

for mastery and for the moment without disturbing the equipoise. On the side of reason she knew very well she was looking at and talking to her dear, kind father, and that the young man sitting next him was John Norton, the son of her dear friend, Mrs Norton; she knew he was the young man who l

face, and as the hallucination strengthened, she saw his large mild eyes grow small, and that vague dreamy look turn to the dull liquorish look, the chin came forward,

ng lighter, and she did not appear to be able to judge things exactly as she should; a sort of

r Hare loo

ng to her, said, "My dear Kitty,

could not overcome the instinctive feeling which

not bear it!" she cried, "don'

alone in a desert. The furniture of the room, the bed, the chairs, the books she loved, seemed to have become as grains of sand, and she forgot all connection between them and herself. She pressed her hands to her forehead, and strove to separate the horror that crowded upon her. But all was n

ors and cut off her hair: one after the other the great tresse

aught the sound, and she rushed to the door to l

d, "for God's sake, tel

strength. He was, however, determined on questioning her, on seeing her, and he

o had so long feared lest a woman might soil the elegant sanctity of his life, disappeared forever from the mind of

lp, help!" she cried,

what do you m

never say I saw you, I will not tell anything. Le

Kitty, take care-the

ire to escape. The window was lifted high-high above her head, and her face d

he cried, "m

Kitty

hrough the green leaves.