He passed the chamber where the Great-Aunt Grantley lay, who was to swell Richard's fortune, and so perform her chief business on earth.

By her door he murmured, "Good creature! you sleep with a sense of duty done," and paced on, reflecting, "She has not made money a demon of discord," and blessed her.

He had his thoughts at Hippias's somnolent door, and to them the world might have subscribed.
A monomaniac at large, watching over sane people in slumber! thinks Adrian Harley, as he hears Sir Austin's footfall, and truly that was a strange object to see .-- Where is the fortress that has not one weak gate?
where the man who is sound at each particular angle?
Ay, meditates the recumbent cynic, more or less mad is not every mother's son?
Favourable circumstances--good air, good company, two or three good rules rigidly adhered to--keep the world out of Bedlam.

But, let the world fly into a passion, and is not Bedlam the safest abode for it?
Sir Austin ascended the stairs, and bent his steps leisurely toward the chamber where his son was lying in the left wing of the Abbey.

At the end of the gallery which led to it he discovered a dim light.