She nervously wondered why the woman had not discovered her mistake and
returned, and went again towards the bell-pull. Approaching the chimney
her back was to Fitzpiers, but she could see him in the glass. An
indescribable thrill passed through her as she perceived that the eyes
of the reflected image were open, gazing wonderingly at her, and under
the curious unexpectedness of the sight she became as if spellbound,
almost powerless to turn her head and regard the original. However, by
an effort she did turn, when there he lay asleep the same as before.

Her startled perplexity as to what he could be meaning was sufficient
to lead her to precipitately abandon her errand. She crossed quickly
to the door, opened and closed it noiselessly, and went out of the
house unobserved. By the time that she had gone down the path and
through the garden door into the lane she had recovered her equanimity.
Here, screened by the hedge, she stood and considered a while.

Drip, drip, drip, fell the rain upon her umbrella and around; she had
come out on such a morning because of the seriousness of the matter in
hand; yet now she had allowed her mission to be stultified by a
momentary tremulousness concerning an incident which perhaps had meant
nothing after all.

In the mean time her departure from the room, stealthy as it had been,
had roused 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.