Anthony listened and said that he agreed with her; as a lawyer he had
analysed the dream and found in it nothing at all. Nothing more, for
instance, than on analysis is to be found in any and every religion.

"And yet," he added, with that pleasant smile of his which was beginning
to grow so painfully sweet and plaintive in its character, "and yet, it
is very odd how real that landscape and that house are becoming to me.
Do you know, Barbara, that the other night I seemed to be sitting in
it in a great cool room, looking out at the river and the vast fertile
plain. Then you came in, my dear, clad in a beautiful robe embroidered
with violets. Yes, you came in glancing round you timidly like one who
had lost her way, and saw me and cried aloud."



Towards the end Anthony grew worse with a dreadful swiftness. He was to
have gone abroad as usual that winter, but when the time came his state
was such that the doctors shrugged their shoulders and said that he
might as well stop at home in comfort.

Up to the middle of October he managed to get out upon the farm on fine
days to see to the drilling of the wheat and so forth. One rather rough
afternoon he went out thus, not because he wished to, but for the sake
of his spaniel dog, Nell, which bothered him to come into the fresh air.
Not finding something that he sought, he was drawn far afield and caught
in a tempest of rain and wind, through which he must struggle home.
Barbara who, growing anxious, had gone to seek him, found him leaning
against an oak unable to speak, with a little stream of blood trickling
from the corner of his mouth. Indeed, it was the dog, which seemed
distressed, that discovered her and led her to him.