"Ah, dinner!" said Louise.
When she had gone, Gwendolen tied two handkerchiefs together and fastened them round her forehead to look as if she had a headache—indeed, she had a headache—and a heartache too!
Presently dinner was brought up, and Gwendolen ate it in loneliness and sadness. She did not leave anything. She had thought of leaving some of the meat, but decided against it. After she had finished, and it had been cleared away, she had sat looking at the fire for a few minutes with eyes that were sore from weeping. Then she got up and began to undress. Life was a miserable thing! She got into bed and laid her hot head down on the cool pillow and tried not to think. But she listened to every sound that passed her door. It was horrible to be alone and forgotten. She had asked to be left alone, but she had not meant to be alone so long. Then there suddenly sprang into her mind the recollection of the strange form she thought she had seen in the library. She really had thought she had seen him. Were such things true?
What about the disaster? Perhaps it was her disaster he had come to warn her about and that was why she saw him. Perhaps God sent him! This thought thrilled her whole being, and she lay very still. Perhaps God had meant to tell her that she must be careful, and she had not been careful. But then how could she have guessed?
Gwendolen had been confirmed only two years ago. She remembered that the preparation for confirmation had been a bore, and yet had given her a pleasant sensation of self-approbation, because she was serving God in a manner peculiarly agreeable to Him by being in the right Church, especially now in these times of unbelief and neglect of religion. She had a pleasant feeling that there were a great many people disobeying Him; and that heaps of priggish people who fussed about living goody-goody lives, were not really approved of by Him, because they didn't go to church or only went to wrong churches.
Then she recalled the afternoon when she was confirmed. She was at school and there were other girls with her, and the old bishop preached to them, and went on and on and on so long, and was so dull that Gwendolen ceased to listen. But she had gone through it all, and had felt very happy to have it over. She felt safe in God's keeping. But now she was alone and miserable, and felt strangely unprotected by God, as if God didn't care!
Was that strange form she had seen in the library sent not by God but by the devil to frighten her? If the Warden had been in the house she would have felt less frightened, only now—now she was so horribly alone. Even if he had been in the house, though she couldn't speak to him, she would have been less frightened.
Gwendolen listened for footsteps in the corridor—would any one come to her? Why had she spoken to Lady Dashwood as if she didn't want to be disturbed? Suppose nobody came? And what about the devil? Should she ring?
At last, unable to bear herself and her thoughts any longer she rose from her bed and put on her dressing-gown. She opened her door and peeped out into the corridor. There was just a glimpse of light, and she could see pretty clearly from end to end. She could hear what sounded like a person near the head of the staircase. Gwendolen darted forwards towards the curtained end of the corridor. But when she reached the curtain she saw old Robinson going down the staircase.
Gwendolen went back a few steps along the corridor and returned to her room. She pushed the door open. It was too silent and too empty, it frightened her. Should she ring the bell? If she rang the bell what would she say? The dinner had been cleared away. What should she ask for if she rang?