et-tones of authority, from end to end of the Christian world,
that Christianity, as it has been understood through the ages, can no
longer be accepted? For that was the truth, the truth, the _truth_!

She lay back, quivering as if with terror. For an instant her soul had
been filled with hatred of the religion for which she could once have
died. It had stood before her as a power of darkness and ignorance, to
be assailed, crushed, driven from the memory of man.

Last night she had hardly slept, and now, though her body was numb with
weariness, her mind kept up a feverish activity. She was bent on
excusing Godwin, and the only way in which she could do so was by
arraigning the world for its huge dishonesty. In a condition between
slumber and waking, she seemed to plead for him before a circle of
Pharisaic accusers. Streams of silent eloquence rushed through her
brain, and the spirit which prompted her was closely akin to that of
'The New Sophistry'. Now and then, for a few seconds, she was smitten
with a consciousness of extraordinary change in her habits of thought.
She looked about her with wide, fearful eyes, and endeavoured to see
things in the familiar aspect. As if with physical constraint her angry
imagination again overcame her, until at length from the penumbra of
sleep she passed into its profoundest gloom.

To wake when dawn was pale at the window. A choking odour reminded her
that she had not extinguished the lamp, which must have gone out for
lack of oil. She opened the window, took a draught of water, and
addressed herself to sleep again. But in recollecting what the new day
meant for her, she had spoilt the chances of longer rest. Her head
ached; all worldly thoughts were repulsive, yet she could not dismiss
them. She tried to repeat the prayers she had known since childhood,
but they were meaningless, and a sense of shame attached to their
utterance.

When the first gleam of sun told her that it was past eight o clock,
she made an effort and rose.

At breakfast Mrs. Warricombe talked of the departure for London. She
mentioned an early train; by getting ready as soon as the meal was
over, they could easily reach the station in time. Sidwell made no
direct reply and seemed to assent; but when they rose from the table,
she said, nervously:

'I couldn't speak before the servants. I wish to stay here till the
afternoon.'

'Why, Sidwell?'

'I have asked Mr. Peak to come and see me this morning.'

H