I dressed automatically, breakfasted automatically, strolled automatically about the grounds. I must see Lydia. I returned to the house, asked the Mater where Lydia was, and was told that she could be found in the room where she had been the previous morning. I almost ran there, and, on opening the door, saw her seated in a high-backed oak chair, very erect, with her hair about her and something resembling tears in her eyes as I had seen her in my dream. She had tapestry in her hands, but they rested idly in her lap. She did not move when I entered. She seemed to be expecting me. I advanced toward her slowly with something like awe in my heart. "Did you have a dream in the night?" I at last summoned courage to ask. She did not answer, and the look in her eyes baffled me. "Did you dream of _me_?" I asked huskily--almost aghast. Still she said nothing but kept fixed upon me her inscrutable eyes. I hardly dared to go on, but in my folly I continued. "Did you"--stammered I--but I could not put my question in words. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she sat there just as I had seen her in my dream, save that she wore the usual chiton. I was in an anguish of suspense, but it came to an end, for she shook her head sadly. "Don't!" she said. "Don't!" I fell at her feet and buried my head in her lap. She did not shrink from me. On the contrary, I felt her hand stroke my head, and I knew it was not love but compassion. I knelt there a full minute, but even to the luxury of grief I had not the right to surrender. So I rose abruptly. I took her hand, kissed it, held it for a moment in mine, and said: "I shall not intrude on you again, Lydia; I love you consumedly, but I shall not intrude on you again." And laying her hand gently upon her lap I turned abruptly and left the room. * * * * * Next day I left Tyringham. Almost the entire population of the farm--save only Lydia, her mother, and the few farm hands necessary to care for the stock--and these last had their holiday later--repaired to New York. Most of them went to the building in which lived Anna's family. Ariston and I returned to our old quarters. CHAPTER XIX THE LEGISLATURE MEETS At the first meeting of the Assembly--for the Legislature now sat no longer at Albany but at New York--Masters arose as soon as the opening formalities were over and read a bill of amnesty for all concerned in the so-called riot of the preceding month. He stated that an identical bill was being at that moment offered in the Senate, and moved a joint session of both houses to consider it. Peleas, the leader of the government, consented to the joint session, but asked that the matter be referred to a committee. He pointed out that the facts were not clearly before the house, and that it was essential that a committee should investigate the facts and present them in a report to the joint session.