He leapt up; caught the cross-bar of wood over the entrance to the summer-house; and, swinging himself on to the low garden-wall beyond, disappeared in the field on the other side. I answered Lucilla's call, and hastened away to find her. We met on the lawn. She looked wild and pale, as if something had frightened her.
"Anything wrong at the rectory?" I asked.
"Nothing wrong," she answered—"except with Me. The next time I complain of fatigue, don't advise me to go and lie down on my bed."
"Why not? I looked in at you, before I came out here. You were fast asleep—the picture of repose."
"Repose? You never were more mistaken in your life. I was in the agony of a horrid dream."
"You were perfectly quiet when I saw you."
"It must have been after you saw me, then. Let me come and sleep with you to-night. I daren't be by myself, if I dream of it again."
"What did you dream of?"
"I dreamt that I was standing, in my wedding dress, before the altar of a strange church; and that a clergyman whose voice I had never heard before, was marrying me——" She stopped, impatiently waving her hand before her in the air. "Blind as I am," she said, "I see him again now!"
"The bridegroom?"