"And do not bring him near me," she continued, "and do not come and look for me, for I shall hide myself until he is gone." "But you are not strong enough to work in the garden. Why will you not remain indoors? Let Mrs. Williams nurse you a little. You need repose after what happened last night." "What happened last night?" she cried, looking sharply up. If the memory of it had passed, I thought it best not to recall it. So I answered: "I am sure, dearest, you need a little nursing. And should you fatigue yourself in the garden"---- "Tell me of last night," she whispered, creeping close to me. "Why," I replied, marking her resolution to be answered, "do you not remember finding yourself walking in your sleep?" She tossed her hands and laughed out. "Oh, yes, I remember! But go you downstairs and detain your friend while I pass. I will breakfast in the housekeeper's room. Tell him I am ill and cannot be seen." "Very well," I answered, reluctantly. It did not please me to leave her to herself. Her face looked wax-like, so delicate and transparent was the white of her skin, and her eyes actually trembled with the light in them, as though they reflected the rays of some flickering flame. I found Dr. F---- in the breakfast-room. I gave him a brief account of what had happened on the previous night, and of her condition. I also acquainted him with the aversion he had inspired her with. He replied that her aversion was an illustration of his influence over insane persons. The first operation of this influence was hate and distrust; but fear soon followed. The motto of the mad doctor, he added, was the expression of the Roman emperor--_oderint dum metuant_. "She refuses to meet you," I said, "and has gone to hide herself among the trees. You will require no apology for this behaviour," I added, with a mournful smile. "You do right to let her have her own way. Yet you see how necessary her dislike makes my departure?" "Yes. It is not wholly impossible that her cunning may have conjectured the truth, and that she has guessed your mission." "I should hardly think that; though you are right in accrediting insanity with a power of perception which is often far beyond the reach of intellect. The decay of the brain seems to bring the functions of the spirit into activity. But this perception does not always refer to material things. Its proper dominion is the immaterial. Where reason sees order, insanity witnesses disorder; but, on the other hand, insanity riots in the chaos that lies without the limits of normal thought, and delights in constructing theories and forms from the thrice-confounded abstractions it seems to contemplate." "This would account for many of its delusions."