The day grew into afternoon. She awoke from a dreamless sleep of about
an hour, and, still under its soothing influence, she pinned up her
hair, settled the ribbons of her dressing-gown, and went downstairs.
She found her father and John in the drawing-room.
'Oh, here is Kitty!' they exclaimed.
'But what is the matter, dear? Why are you not dressed?' said Mr.
Hare.
'But what is the matter? ... Are you ill?' said John, and he extended
his hand.
'No, no, 'tis nothing,' she replied, and avoiding the outstretched
hand with a shudder, she took the seat furthest away from her father
and lover. They looked at her in amazement, and she at them in fear
and trembling. She was conscious of two very distinct sensations--one
the result of reason, the other of madness. She was not ignorant of
the causes of each, although she was powerless to repress one in
favour of the other. She knew she was looking at and talking to her
dear, kind father, and that the young man sitting next him was John
Norton, the son of her dear friend, Mrs. Norton; she knew he was the
young man who loved her, and whom she was going to marry. At the same
time she seemed to see that her father's kind, benign countenance was
not a real face, but a mask which he wore over another face, and
which, should the mask slip--and she prayed that it might not--would
prove as horrible and revolting as---
But the mask that John wore was as nothing--it was the veriest make-
believe. And she could not but doubt now but that the face she had
known him so long by was a fictitious face, and as the hallucination
strengthened, she saw his large mild eyes grow small, and that vague,
dreamy look turn to the dull, liquorish look, the chin came forward,
the brows contracted... the large sinewy hands were, oh, so like! Then
reason asserted itself; the vision vanished, and she saw John Norton
as she had always seen him.
But was she sure that she did? Yes, yes--but her head seemed to be
growing lighter, and she did not appear to be able to judge things
exactly as she should; a sort of new world seemed to be slipping like
a painted veil between her and the old.
John and Mr. Hare looked at her.
John at length rose, and he said, 'My dear Kitty, I am afraid you are
not well....'
She strove to allow him to take her hand, but she could not overcome
the instinctive feeling which caused her to shrink from him.
'Don't come near me--I cannot bear it!' she cried; 'don't come near
me, I beg of you.'
More than this she could not do, and giving way utterly, she shrieked
and rushed from the room. She rushed upstairs. She stood in the middle
of the floor listening to the silence, her thoughts falling about her
like shaken leaves. It was as if a thunderbolt had destroyed the
world, and left her alone in a desert. The furniture of the room, the
bed, the chairs, the books she loved, seemed to have become as grains
of sand, and she forgot all connection between them and herself. She
pressed her hands to her forehead, and strove to separate the horror
that crowded upon her. But all was now one horror--the lonely hills
were in the room, the grey sky, the green furze, the tramp; she was
again fighting furiously with him; and her lover and her father and
all sense of the world's life grew dark in the storm of madness.
A step was heard on the stairs; her quick ears caught the sound, and
she rushed to the door to lock it. But she was too late. John held it
fast.
'Kitty, Kitty,' he cried, 'for God's sake, tell me what is the
matter?'
'Save me! save me!' she cried, and she forced the door against him
with her whole strength. He was, however, determined on questioning
her, on seeing her, and he passed his head and shoulders into the
room.
'Save me, save me! help, help!' she cried, retreating from him.
'Kitty, Kitty, what do you mean? Say, say--'
'Save me; oh mercy, mercy! Let me go, and I will never say I saw you,
I will not tell anything. Let me go!' she cried, retreating towards
the window.
'For heaven's sake, Kitty, take care--the window, the window!'
But Kitty heard nothing, knew nothing, was conscious of nothing but a
mad desire to escape. The window was lifted high--high above her head,
and her face distorted with fear, she stood amid the soft greenery of
the Virginia creeper.
'Save me!' she cried.
The white dress passed through the green leaves, and John heard a dull
thud.