But a moment after, and with a sudden impulse of generous love, he recoiled from his own thoughts.
"I am a wretch," he thought, "a traitor to the best and most beautiful of brides, to harbor such an unworthy idea! What! shall I doubt my darling girl because Sybilla Silver thinks she recognized that portrait, or because an inquisitive stranger chooses to ask questions?
No! I could stake my life on her perfect truth--my own dear wife." Impulsively he turned to go; at once he must seek her, and set every doubt at rest.

He ascended rapidly to her room and softly tapped at the door.

There was no answer.

He knocked again; still no response.
He turned the handle and went in.
She was asleep.

Lying on a sofa, among a heap of pillows, arrayed in a white dressing-gown, her profuse dark hair all loose and disordered, Lady Kingsland lay, so profoundly sleeping that her husband's knocking had not disturbed her.