'Thank you, dear,' said Olive; 'you do me the honour of catching hold.' Helena laughed ironically.

'Catching what?' asked Louisa, mystified.

'Why, dear,' answered Olive, heavily condescending to explain, 'I

offered Helena the handle of a pun, and she took it. What a flash! You

know, it's not that I'm afraid....' The rest of her speech was overwhelmed in thunder.

Helena lay on the edge of the bed, listening to the ecstatics of one

friend and to the impertinences of the other. In spite of her ironical

feeling, the thunder impressed her with a sense of fatality. The night

opened, revealing a ghostly landscape, instantly to shut again with

blackness. Then the thunder crashed. Helena felt as if some secret were

being disclosed too swiftly and violently for her to understand. The

thunder exclaimed horribly on the matter. She was sure something

had happened.

Gradually the storm, drew away. The rain came down with a rush,

persisted with a bruising sound upon the earth and the leaves.

'What a deluge!' exclaimed Louisa.

No one answered her. Olive was falling asleep, and Helena was in no mood

to reply. Louisa, disconsolate, lay looking at the black window, nursing

a grievance, until she, too, drifted into sleep. Helena was awake; the

storm had left her with a settled sense of calamity. She felt bruised.

The sound of the heavy rain bruising the ground outside represented her

feeling; she could not get rid of the bruised sense of disaster.

She lay wondering what it was, why Siegmund had not written, what could

have happened to him. She imagined all of them terrible, and endued with

grandeur, for she had kinship with Hedda Gabler.

'But no,' she said to herself, 'it is impossible anything should have

happened to him--I should have known. I should have known the moment his

spirit left his body; he would have come to me. But I slept without

dreams last night, and today I am sure there has been no crisis. It is

impossible it should have happened to him: I should have known.' She was very certain that in event of Siegmund's death, she would have

received intelligence. She began to consider all the causes which might

arise to prevent his writing immediately to her.

'Nevertheless,' she said at last, 'if I don't hear tomorrow I will go

and see.' She had written to him on Monday. If she should receive no answer by

Wednesday morning she would return to London. As she was deciding this

she went to sleep.

The next day passed without news. Helena was in a state of distress. Her

wistfulness touched the other two women very keenly. Louisa waited upon

her, was very tender and solicitous. Olive, who was becoming painful by

reason of her unsatisfied curiosity, had to be told in part of the state

of affairs.




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