d and laid her hot
head down on the cool pillow and tried not to think. But she listened to
every sound that passed her door. It was horrible to be alone and
forgotten. She had asked to be left alone, but she had not meant to be
alone so long. Then there suddenly sprang into her mind the recollection
of the strange form she thought she had seen in the library. She really
had thought she had seen him. Were such things true?

What about the disaster? Perhaps it was _her_ disaster he had come to
warn _her_ about and that was why _she_ saw him. Perhaps God sent him!
This thought thrilled her whole being, and she lay very still. Perhaps
God had meant to tell _her_ that she must be careful, and she had not
been careful. But then how could she have guessed?

Gwendolen had been confirmed only two years ago. She remembered that the
preparation for confirmation had been a bore, and yet had given her a
pleasant sensation of self-approbation, because she was serving God in a
manner peculiarly agreeable to Him by being in the right Church,
especially now in these times of unbelief and neglect of religion. She
had a pleasant feeling that there were a great many people disobeying
Him; and that heaps of priggish people who fussed about living
goody-goody lives, were not really approved of by Him, because they
didn't go to church or only went to wrong churches.

Then she recalled the afternoon when she was confirmed. She was at
school and there were other girls with her, and the old bishop preached
to them, and went on and on and on so long, and was so dull that
Gwendolen ceased to listen. But she had gone through it all, and had
felt very happy to have it over. She felt safe in God's keeping. But now
she was alone and miserable, and felt strangely unprotected by God, as
if God didn't care!

Was that strange form she had seen in the library sent not by God but by
the devil to frighten her? If the Warden had been in the house she would
have felt less frightened, only now--now she was so horribly alone. Even
if he had been in the house, though she couldn't speak to him, she would
have been less frightened.

Gwendolen listened for footsteps in the corridor--would any one come to
her? Why had she spoken to Lady Dashwood as if she didn't want to be
disturbed? Suppose nobody came? And what about the devil? Should she
ring?

At last, unable to bear herself and her thoughts any longer she rose
from her bed and put on her dressing-gown. S