Fitzpiers, and he sat up. In the reflection from the mirror
which Grace had beheld there was no mystery; he had opened his eyes for
a few moments, but had immediately relapsed into unconsciousness, if,
indeed, he had ever been positively awake. That somebody had just left
the room he was certain, and that the lovely form which seemed to have
visited him in a dream was no less than the real presentation of the
person departed he could hardly doubt.

Looking out of the window a few minutes later, down the box-edged
gravel-path which led to the bottom, he saw the garden door gently
open, and through it enter the young girl of his thoughts, Grace having
just at this juncture determined to return and attempt the interview a
second time. That he saw her coming instead of going made him ask
himself if his first impression of her were not a dream indeed. She
came hesitatingly along, carrying her umbrella so low over her head
that he could hardly see her face. When she reached the point where
the raspberry bushes ended and the strawberry bed began, she made a
little pause.

Fitzpiers feared that she might not be coming to him even now, and
hastily quitting the room, he ran down the path to meet her. The
nature of her errand he could not divine, but he was prepared to give
her any amount of encouragement.

"I beg pardon, Miss Melbury," he said. "I saw you from the window, and
fancied you might imagine that I was not at home--if it is I you were
coming for."

"I was coming to speak one word to you, nothing more," she replied.
"And I can say it here."

"No, no. Please do come in. Well, then, if you will not come into the
house, come as far as the porch."

Thus pressed she went on to the porch, and they stood together inside
it, Fitzpiers closing her umbrella for her.

"I have merely a request or petition to make," she said. "My father's
servant is ill--a woman you know--and her illness is serious."

"I am sorry to hear it. You wish me to come and see her at once?"

"No; I particularly wish you not to come."

"Oh, indeed."

"Yes; and she wishes the same. It would make her seriously worse if
you were to come. It would almost kill her....My errand is of a
peculiar and awkward nature. It is concerning a subject which weighs
on her mind--that unfortunate arrangement she made with you, that you
might have her body--after death."

"Oh! Grammer Oliver, the old woman with the fine head. Seriously ill,
is she!"