An hour ago all seemed so bright.

I was sitting in the picture-gallery with Constance, whom I love dearly.

We had been watching the lightning, till the thunder had grown fainter and the storm seemed past.

I was just about to ask her to become my wife when a brighter flash than all the rest burst on us, and I saw--I saw, Sophy, standing in the gallery as close to me as you are now--I saw--that man I told you about at Oxford; and then this faintness came on me." "Whom do you mean ?" I said, not understanding what he spoke of, and thinking for a moment he referred to someone else.

"Did you see Mr.
Gaskell ?" "No, it was not he; but that dead man whom I saw rising from my wicker chair the night you went away from Oxford." You will perhaps smile at my weakness, my dear Edward, and indeed I had at that time no justification for it; but I assure you that I have not yet forgotten, and never shall forget, the impression of overwhelming horror which his words produced upon me.