FortwoyearsMissWinchelseacouldnotgotoseeherfriends，inspiteofthereiteratedinvitationsofMrs。Sevenoaks——itbecamefullSevenoaksinthesecondyear。ThenonedayneartheEasterrestshefeltlonelyandwithoutasoultounderstandherintheworld，andhermindranoncemoreonwhatiscalledPlatonicfriendship。Fannywasclearlyhappyandbusyinhernewsphereofdomesticity，butnodoubtHEhadhislonelyhours。DidheeverthinkofthosedaysinRome——gonenowbeyondrecalling？Noonehadunderstoodherashehaddone；nooneinalltheworld。Itwouldbeasortofmelancholypleasuretotalktohimagain，andwhatharmcoulditdo？Whyshouldshedenyherself？Thatnightshewroteasonnet，allbutthelasttwolinesoftheoctave——whichwouldnotcome，andthenextdayshecomposedagracefullittlenotetotellFannyshewascomingdown。
　　Andsoshesawhimagain。
　　Evenatthefirstencounteritwasevidenthehadchanged；heseemedstouterandlessnervous，anditspeedilyappearedthathisconversationhadalreadylostmuchofitsolddelicacy。ThereevenseemedajustificationforHelen’sdescriptionofweaknessinhisface——incertainlightsitWASweak。Heseemedbusyandpreoccupiedabouthisaffairs，andalmostundertheimpressionthatMissWinchelseahadcomeforthesakeofFanny。HediscussedhisdinnerwithFannyinanintelligentway。Theyonlyhadonegoodlongtalktogether，andthatcametonothing。HedidnotrefertoRome，andspentsometimeabusingamanwhohadstolenanideahehadhadforatext-book。
　　ItdidnotseemaverywonderfulideatoMissWinchelsea。ShediscoveredhehadforgottenthenamesofmorethanhalfthepainterswhoseworktheyhadrejoicedoverinFlorence。
　　Itwasasadlydisappointingweek，andMissWinchelseawasgladwhenitcametoanend。Undervariousexcusessheavoidedvisitingthemagain。Afteratimethevisitor’sroomwasoccupiedbytheirtwolittleboys，andFanny’sinvitationsceased。Theintimacyofherlettershadlongsincefadedaway。
　　ThemanwiththewhitefaceenteredthecarriageatRugby。Hemovedslowlyinspiteoftheurgencyofhisporter，andevenwhilehewasstillontheplatformInotedhowillheseemed。Hedroppedintothecorneroveragainstmewithasigh，madeanincompleteattempttoarrangehistravellingshawl，andbecamemotionless，withhiseyesstaringvacantly。Presentlyhewasmovedbyasenseofmyobservation，lookedupatme，andputoutaspiritlesshandforhisnewspaper。Thenheglancedagaininmydirection。
　　Ifeignedtoread。IfearedIhadunwittinglyembarrassedhim，andinamomentIwassurprisedtofindhimspeaking。
　　“Ibegyourpardon？“saidI。
　　“Thatbook，“herepeated，pointingaleanfinger，“isaboutdreams。“
　　“Obviously，“Ianswered，foritwasFortnum-Roscoe’sDreamStates，andthetitlewasonthecover。Hehungsilentforaspaceasifhesoughtwords。“Yes，“hesaidatlast，“buttheytellyounothing。“
　　Ididnotcatchhismeaningforasecond。
　　“Theydon’tknow，“headded。
　　Ilookedalittlemoreattentivelyathisface。
　　“Therearedreams，“hesaid，“anddreams。“
　　ThatsortofpropositionIneverdispute。
　　“Isuppose——“hehesitated。“Doyoueverdream？Imeanvividly。“
　　“Idreamverylittle，“Ianswered。“IdoubtifIhavethreevividdreamsinayear。“
　　“Ah！“hesaid，andseemedforamomenttocollecthisthoughts。
　　“Yourdreamsdon’tmixwithyourmemories？“heaskedabruptly。
　　“Youdon’tfindyourselfindoubt；didthishappenordiditnot？“
　　“Hardlyever。Exceptjustforamomentaryhesitationnowandthen。
　　Isupposefewpeopledo。“
　　“DoesHEsay——“heindicatedthebook。
　　“Saysithappensattimesandgivestheusualexplanationaboutintensityofimpressionandtheliketoaccountforitsnothappeningasarule。Isupposeyouknowsomethingofthesetheories——“
　　“Verylittle——exceptthattheyarewrong。“
　　Hisemaciatedhandplayedwiththestrapofthewindowforatime。
　　Ipreparedtoresumereading，andthatseemedtoprecipitatehisnextremark。Heleantforwardalmostasthoughhewouldtouchme。
　　“Isn’ttheresomethingcalledconsecutivedreaming——thatgoesonnightafternight？“
　　“Ibelievethereis。Therearecasesgiveninmostbooksonmentaltrouble。“
　　“Mentaltrouble！Yes。Idaresaythereare。It’stherightplaceforthem。ButwhatImean——“Helookedathisbonyknuckles。
　　“Isthatsortofthingalwaysdreaming？ISitdreaming？Orisitsomethingelse？Mightn’titbesomethingelse？“
　　Ishouldhavesnubbedhispersistentconversationbutforthedrawnanxietyofhisface。Iremembernowthelookofhisfadedeyesandthelidsred-stained——perhapsyouknowthatlook。
　　“I’mnotjustarguingaboutamatterofopinion，“hesaid。“Thething’skillingme。“
　　“Dreams？“
　　“Ifyoucallthemdreams。Nightafternight。Vivid！——sovivid……
　　this——“heindicatedthelandscapethatwentstreamingbythewindow“seemsunrealincomparison！IcanscarcelyrememberwhoIam，whatbusinessIamon……“
　　Hepaused。“Evennow——“
　　“Thedreamisalwaysthesame——doyoumean？“Iasked。
　　“It’sover。“
　　“Youmean？“
　　“Idied。“
　　“Died？“
　　“Smashedandkilled，andnow，somuchofmeasthatdreamwas，isdead。Deadforever。IdreamtIwasanotherman，youknow，livinginadifferentpartoftheworldandinadifferenttime。Idreamtthatnightafternight。NightafternightIwokeintothatotherlife。Freshscenesandfreshhappenings——untilIcameuponthelast——“
　　“Whenyoudied？“
　　“WhenIdied。“
　　“Andsincethen——“
　　“No，“hesaid。“ThankGod！Thatwastheendofthedream……“
　　ItwasclearIwasinforthisdream。Andafterall，Ihadanhourbeforeme，thelightwasfadingfast，andFortnum-Roscoehasadrearywaywithhim。“Livinginadifferenttime，“Isaid:
　　“doyoumeaninsomedifferentage？“
　　“Yes。“
　　“Past？“
　　“No，tocome——tocome。“
　　“Theyearthreethousand，forexample？“
　　“Idon’tknowwhatyearitwas。IdidwhenIwasasleep，whenIwasdreaming，thatis，butnotnow——notnowthatIamawake。There’salotofthingsIhaveforgottensinceIwokeoutofthesedreams，thoughIknewthematthetimewhenIwas——Isupposeitwasdreaming。
　　Theycalledtheyeardifferentlyfromourwayofcallingtheyear……
　　WhatDIDtheycallit？“Heputhishandtohisforehead。“No，“saidhe，“Iforget。“
　　Hesatsmilingweakly。ForamomentIfearedhedidnotmeantotellmehisdream。AsaruleIhatepeoplewhotelltheirdreams，butthisstruckmedifferently。Iprofferedassistanceeven。“Itbegan——“
　　Isuggested。
　　“Itwasvividfromthefirst。Iseemedtowakeupinitsuddenly。
　　Andit’scuriousthatinthesedreamsIamspeakingofIneverrememberedthislifeIamlivingnow。Itseemedasifthedreamlifewasenoughwhileitlasted。Perhaps——ButIwilltellyouhowIfindmyselfwhenIdomybesttorecallitall。Idon’trememberanythingdearlyuntilIfoundmyselfsittinginasortofloggialookingoutoverthesea。Ihadbeendozing，andsuddenlyIwokeup——freshandvivid——notabitdream-like——becausethegirlhadstoppedfanningme。“
　　“Thegirl？“
　　“Yes，thegirl。Youmustnotinterruptoryouwillputmeout。“
　　Hestoppedabruptly。“Youwon’tthinkI’mmad？“hesaid。
　　“No，“Ianswered；“you’vebeendreaming。Tellmeyourdream。“