Three times, when he believed the entire household asleep, he had sat alone, trying to straighten out in his mind the perplexing questions that had presented themselves since that memorable night when he and Merle had gone to hear the great singer who had proven to be his wife. From that time to this, there had been one continual sequence of surprises for him, few of which he was able to satisfactorily explain, even to himself.
Until then, he had logically deduced the cause of every circumstance occurring around him. Now he lacked that degree of confidence with which he had previously undertaken their solution. One point in this long chain of events always held him spellbound; that was his finding Clarissa at the concert. Supposing he had not gone to that concert;—what then?
It was by the merest chance he had gone, and nothing could have been further from his mind than that he should find Clarissa there. Not going to that concert would have meant living alone for him, as he had done so long. The life had been so lonely and desolate it was only endurable when he worked continually.
His resolve to go had been hasty and unpremeditated; what good influence had been working in his life just at that particular time, that he now had—
The interruption to this soliloquy was a pleasant one, for Clarissa's entrance had finished his retrospection.
"Why are you here all alone, William? Are you troubled in any way?"
"No; I was only thinking, and was unaware that time was passing. How did you know that I was here? I thought you were sleeping long ago."
"So I was; but I awoke suddenly, and had a strong inclination to know where you were and what you were doing. I suppose it was imagination, but I thought you called me."
"I did not. It would be selfish indeed, to call you from your sleep. You were probably tired and nervous; thus your sleep was not sound nor refreshing. Come, I will return with you, and put you to sleep again."
On two other occasions, under quite similar circumstances, she had come to him when he had been trying to unravel the same problem. The strangest part of the whole occurrence was that, when he had sat there on several previous occasions, willing her to come to him, he had sent her such suggestions as "Clarissa, come to me," she had failed to respond, although he knew the thoughts had carried sufficient power to draw her.