Then I saw that two warring spirits were striving within Rachel.

The colour left her face, she grew thin, she started and trembled at a sudden word or noise.
Sometimes in the middle of the summer nights, just as the earliest birds were beginning to stir, she would come into my room and throw herself weeping across my bed.

But I dared not speak to her then.

She would not tolerate a word.

And so she took her way.
One morning Arthur went off to explore some place alone--a most unusual event.