"By no means. But last night, was it not your light that was not
extinguished till morning?"

"We soon have morning now," said Cornelia; and her face was pale as the
first hour of the dawn. "Are you not a late foot-farer, I may ask in
return?"

"Mere restlessness. I have no appetite for study. I took the liberty to
cross the park from the wood, and saw you--at least I guessed it your
light, and then I met your brother."

"Yes? you met him?"

Mr. Barrett gestured an affirmative.

"And he--did he speak?"

"He nodded. He was in some haste."

"But, then, you did not go to bed at all that night? It is almost my
turn to be lecturer, if I might expect to be listened to."

"Do you not know--or am I constitutionally different from others?" Mr.
Barrett resumed: "I can't be alone in feeling that there are certain
times and periods when what I would like to call poisonous influences are
abroad, that touch my fate in the days to come. I know I am helpless. I
can only wander up and down."

"That sounds like a creed of fatalism."