"Minnie!" he cried wildly, looking up at last, "I have dreamed a horrid waking dream while you slept: I was mad; for I thought if a day should ever come wherein you would not love me, but another----" "Miles--Miles!" cried the trembling girl. "Do not think of so fearful a thing; 'tis tempting some demon to try you." "_Try_ me, Minnie! How so?" There was almost madness in his look. "By giving you _real_ trouble for this unchecked vision of impossible things." "You are right, dearest," he said, rising more calmly, yet he shivered with emotion. "Heaven keep me from _real_ doubt! I could not support it. Come, let us leave this room; it chills my heart, Minnie;" and he placed his arm around her--as he did so, and it came in contact with the living rope he had so madly twisted, a cold shudder passed over him. "You are not well, dear Miles," she said, tenderly. "Let us leave this room; it seems filled with fancies and spirits--I grow superstitious." She tried to smile up in his face as usual, but the dimpling peace had left her--she was tacitly deceiving him. The next day came with a bright sunshine, which imparted its light to Tremenhere's heart. He looked back upon his mad thoughts of the past night, half in laughter, half in horror, fully resolving for the future to check those wild, jealous, unfounded fears. Minnie could not rally, as he had done; she crept about that cottage like a troubled spirit, from one room to another, restless and unhappy. She was counting the moments until Lady Dora should arrive, and she could fling her arms round Miles's neck, and, telling him all, make him promise to be as ever towards Lord Randolph, who had in truth not insulted her in any way. The more she reflected, the less cause could she see for this secresy; and but for her hasty promise to her cousin, certainly would have told him at once. "Minnie, dearest," cried her husband, laughing; "what are you creeping about in that miserable manner for? Poor child! I startled you out of your sleep last night--you are quite pale." She would have looked doubly so had she known his mad thoughts while she slept; as it was, she blushed painfully when he noticed her. "I declare," he said, bending over her fondly, "you have been crying, dear child. What is grieving you?--have I unintentionally pained you?" And he kissed the bent brow. "No, dearest Miles," she answered with quivering lips--she felt so nervous. "You are all kindness, all love. I----" and she was choking with her efforts to subdue her tears.