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five minutes--we parted--she went out--her last words being that she would
return at half-past one o'clock; and not long after that time, if ever mimic
bells--bells of rejoicing, or bells of mourning, are heard in desert spaces
of the air, and (as some have said), in unreal worlds, that mock our own,
and repeat, for ridicule, the vain and unprofitable motions of man, then too
surely, about this hour, began to toll the funeral knell of my earthly
happiness--its final hour had sounded.

* * * * *

One o'clock had arrived; fifteen minutes after, I strolled into the
garden, and began to look over the little garden-gate in expectation of
every moment descrying Agnes in the distance. Half an hour passed, and
for ten minutes more I was tolerably quiet. From this time till
half-past two I became constantly more agitated--_agitated_, perhaps, is
too strong a word--but I was restless and anxious beyond what I should
have chosen to acknowledge. Still I kept arguing, What is half an
hour?--what is an hour? A thousand things might have occurred to cause
that delay, without needing to suppose any accident; or, if an accident,
why not a very trifling one? She may have slightly hurt her foot--she
may have slightly sprained her ankle. 'Oh, doubtless,' I exclaimed to
myself, 'it will be a mere trifle, or perhaps nothing at all.' But I
remember that, even whilst I was saying this, I took my hat and walked
with nervous haste into the little quiet lane upon which our garden-gate
opened. The lane led by a few turnings, and after a course of about five
hundred yards, into a broad high-road, which even at that day had begun
to assume the character of a street, and allowed an unobstructed range
of view in the direction of the city for at least a mile. Here I
stationed myself, for the air was so clear that I could distinguish
dress and figure to a much greater distance than usual. Even on such a
day, however, the remote distance was hazy and indistinct, and at any
other season I should have been diverted with the various mistakes I
made. From occasional combinations of colour, modified by light and
shade, and of course powerfully assisted by the creative state of the
eye under this nervous apprehensiveness, I continued to shape into
images of Agnes forms without end, that upon nearer approach presented
the most grotesque contrasts to her impressive appearance. But I had
ceased even to comprehend the ludicrous; m