It was midnight before I retired to rest. I had other things to think of besides this search. The titles of my books, as they looked down from the shelves, had preached a solemn homily on the vanity of human wishes: and my own experience capped the moral by presenting me with a picture of the life I was leading, done in colours as sombre as fancy and reality could supply. When I got upstairs I found Geraldine asleep. I bent over her, and studied her features. The complexion was so white that the outline of her cheek was hardly perceptible upon the pillow. Her beauty had a pinched, worn air. All its calm and freshness were gone; her brow was knitted, her lip curled in a sneer; she lay quite still, breathing deeply. The general expression of her face was wretchedness. It was pitiful to witness such a look on lineaments so beautiful. I took the candle with me into the dressing-room, and tried the lids of the boxes. They were open. That of the ottoman only was locked. I sought for her keys in the pockets of some dresses hanging in the wardrobe and found them in a green silk skirt. I turned the ottoman inside out, but found nothing. I applied myself to the trunks, but they were as barren of information as the ottoman. I closed the lid of the last trunk and was about passing from the room, when I heard the sound of a door opened. I listened, then pushed the dressing-room door, and looked out. The bed was empty, the door of the chamber open. I caught a light sound of feet, and stealing to the landing, perceived Geraldine descending the stairs. I followed her. She gained the hall; I drew near. A lamp that was kept burning all night diffused a sufficient light. I looked at her face, and by the expression saw that she walked in her sleep. I did not dare arouse her. I had read of the danger of awakening persons from such trances, and Dr. F---- had particularly cautioned me against doing so with my wife. I could do no more than follow her; and this I resolved to do to preserve her from harm. She walked steadily to the door leading to the back grounds, unbolted it, and passed out. The night air blew chill, for autumn was advanced and the approach of winter could be tasted in the night winds. The moon lay over the trees, slowly brightening, but shedding little light as yet. But the grounds and shadows were defined. She seemed sensible of the chill; for she crossed her hands upon her bosom and huddled her shoulders. She was habited only in her nightgown and her feet were naked. The dew was heavy; the gravelled walks sharp; yet I dared not wake her.