Then as she sat fighting against the unnatural, her imaginative and superstitious mind trembling at that which seemed beyond imagination, a miracle happened.
The thought of danger to Richard Pinckney brought it about. All at once fear vanished, the fantastic clouds surrounding her broke, faded, passing, showing the blue sky, and Truth stood before her in the form of Love.
It was as though the vision had brought it to her wrapped up in that terror she had felt for him. In a moment the fantasy of Juliet became as nothing beside the reality. If it were a thousand times true that she had once been Juliet what did it matter? She had loved Richard Pinckney always, so it seemed to her, and nothing at all mattered beside the recognition of that fact.
Perfect love casteth out fear, even fear of the supernatural, even fear of Fate.
“Richard,” said Miss Pinckney that night, finding herself alone with him, “that Silas Grangerson is in town and I want you to beware of him.”
“Silas,” said he, “why I saw him at the club, he’s gone back home by this, I expect, at least he said he was going back to-night. Why should I beware of him?”
“He’s such an irresponsible creature,” she replied. “I’m going to tell you something, and mind, what I’m going to tell you is a secret you mustn’t breathe to any one: he’s in love with Phyl.”
“Silas?”
“Yes. I knew it wouldn’t be long before some one was after her. She’s the prettiest girl in Charleston, and she’s different from the others somehow.”