Go when you wish, dear Grace." His last words that evening were a hopeful remark that all might be well with her yet; that Mr.Fitzpiers would not intrude upon her life, if he found that his presence cost her so much pain.

Then the window was closed, the shutters folded, and the rustle of his footsteps died away.
No sooner had she retired to rest that night than the wind began to rise, and, after a few prefatory blasts, to be accompanied by rain.
The wind grew more violent, and as the storm went on, it was difficult to believe that no opaque body, but only an invisible colorless thing, was trampling and climbing over the roof, making branches creak, springing out of the trees upon the chimney, popping its head into the flue, and shrieking and blaspheming at every corner of the walls.

As in the old story, the assailant was a spectre which could be felt but not seen.

She had never before been so struck with the devilry of a gusty night in a wood, because she had never been so entirely alone in spirit as she was now.

She seemed almost to be apart from herself--a vacuous duplicate only.