He looked down at that beautiful young face with that wistful expression upon it. For a moment his face softened; he bent a little over her. Then he lifted his eyes once more, and resumed speaking in the same voice he had used before--a dull, monotonous voice, under which ran an undercurrent of uneasiness. 'Ah! Is it so? I did not know that.' A vague shadow of disappointment came over her face. He might take a little interest in that fact, no matter what other things were in his mind. He went on,-- 'I knew she was a strange savage woman, and I knew why I brought her to England. The reason was ridiculous, but it satisfied, as ridiculous reasons satisfy in dreams.' She had a much lessened interest in the story of that dream now. That dream had come between him and her, and had made him indifferent to the place at which her heart had first felt moved towards him. He still kept on,-- 'In a while we drew near London. I knew I had to land my passenger as near this spot as possible. I steered the boat to the wharf down there. The husband of the woman stood upon the wharf. I called to him to come for his wife; he came and carried away the woman. Then I pushed off my boat.' He paused, and, looking at the northern entrance of the cathedral, said,-- 'Shall we go in?' 'Yes, if you wish it,' she answered listlessly. As they entered the vestibule he said,-- 'In getting away from the wharf I lost my paddle. I had now no power to guide the boat, no power to regain the wharf. I cried to the man for help.' Here they entered the body of the cathedral. 'When I looked, the cloak and hat which the man had worn had fallen away, and the furs from the figure of his wife--' 'The service is going on, George; do you wish to take part in it?' she said. She thought, 'This dream is very long, and he is so wrapped up in it he does not remember this is service-time; he cannot even see that the service is going on.' 'The figure of the man was now a fleshless skeleton, and the woman in the arms of the skeleton was you!' She started from his side, with an exclamation of terror she could not suppress. 'So I have come here to-day during service, to thank God that it was only a dream, and to pray that no evil may ever come to my Marie through my fault, and that her faith may be permanently confirmed. Marie, of course the dream has no more to do with you and me than with Kate or Mr Nevill; but it will do neither of us harm to thank God my dream was but a dream; to pray I may never do you harm, and to ask that you may be continued in your pious resolves.' 'There is only need for us to pray for the last,' she said, clinging to his arm with redoubled tenderness. All had been explained--more than explained. All had been not only justified, but swept away; and, in place of the cold sensation caused by his peculiar manner of that morning, now glowed a love warmed for the first time by gratitude.