Clara Hopgood

'What kind of person is he with whom you COULD be without making him

happy?'

The baritone rose to the upper F with a clash of chords on the piano,

and the company broke up. Frank went home with but one thought in

his head--the thought of Cecilia.

His bedroom faced the south-west, its windows were open, and when he

entered, the wind, which was gradually rising, struck him on the face

and nearly forced the door out of his hand; the fire in his blood was

quenched, and the image of Cecilia receded. He looked out, and saw

reflected on the low clouds the dull glare of the distant city. Just

over there was Great Ormond Street, and underneath that dim, red

light, like the light of a great house burning, was Madge Hopgood.

He lay down, turning over from side to side in the vain hope that by

change of position he might sleep. After about an hour's feverish

tossing, he just lost himself, but not in that oblivion which slumber

usually brought him. He was so far awake that he saw what was around

him, and yet, he was so far released from the control of his reason

that he did not recognise what he saw, and it became part of a new

scene created by his delirium. The full moon, clearing away the

clouds as she moved upwards, had now passed round to the south, and

just caught the white window-curtain farthest from him. He half-

opened his eyes, his mad dream still clung to him, and there was the

dead Madge before him, pale in death, and holding a child in her

arms! He distinctly heard himself scream as he started up in

affright; he could not tell where he was; the spectre faded and the

furniture and hangings transformed themselves into their familiar

reality. He could not lie down again, and rose and dressed himself.

He was not the man to believe that the ghost could be a revelation or

a prophecy, but, nevertheless, he was once more overcome with fear, a

vague dread partly justifiable by the fact of Madge, by the fact that

his father might soon know what had happened, that others also might

know, Cecilia for example, but partly also a fear going beyond all

the facts, and not to be accounted for by them, a strange, horrible

trembling such as men feel in earthquakes when the solid rock shakes,

on which everything rests.