"Cornelius," I said, "I am now quite resolved to stay with you. I should feel too miserable to be even a day away. Always thinking about typhus, you know."
"Sleep, child," was his only reply.
I tried; but awhile afterwards I was again talking.
"And the Academy!" I said, "and 'The Young Girl Reading'! Are the other pictures sold?"
I half-rose on one elbow to look at Cornelius, who sat a little behind me. Without answering, he made me lie down again, and laid his hand on my eyes and brow. He possessed, perhaps, something of mesmeric power, for unconsciously I fell asleep; but mine was not a deep or perfect slumber. I was aware of a change that I could not understand or define. I felt, however, some one bending over me, and a long and lingering kiss was pressed on my brow.
"It is Cornelius going up-stairs," I thought even in my sleep, but without awakening. My next remembrance is that I looked up with sudden terror, and that I found myself face to face with Kate, who sat by the table weeping bitterly. I looked for Cornelius and saw him not.
"Kate, Kate!" I cried, starting to my feet, "where is he? What has happened?"
She shook her head and never replied.
I crossed the room and opened the door of the front parlour; it was empty and in confusion; I ran to the front door, opened it, and looked down the moonlit street.
"Cornelius!" I cried, "Cornelius!"