`My dream! my dream!' I heard her say those words softly in the awful silence. She sank on her knees, and raised her clasped hands to heaven. `Father! strengthen him. Father! help him in his hour of need.'

The woman came on, slowly and silently came on. I looked at her -- at her, and at none other, from that moment.

The voice that was praying for me faltered and sank low -- then rose on a sudden, and called affrightedly, called despairingly to me to come away.

But the veiled woman had possession of me, body and soul. She stopped on one side of the grave. We stood face to face with the tombstone between us. She was close to the inscription on the side of the pedestal. Her gown touched the black letters.

The voice came nearer, and rose and rose more passionately still. `Hide your face I don't look at her! Oh, for God's sake, spare him --'

The woman lifted her veil.

`Sacred to the Memory of Laura, Lady Glyde --'

Laura, Lady Glyde, was standing by the inscription, and was looking at me over the grave.