ABSTRACT
No sleep did Viola have on that first night of her engagement. Her dismay at the thought of it increased with every black lingering hour as she lay tossing on her pillow, wondering at times if she were under the thrall of a terrible dream. It was all impossible; she could not go on with the engagement; surely Philip himself could not be in earnest about anything so preposterous. He had said that he would ride over in the morning, about ten o’clock, and when the time drew near Viola was seized with a panic, and flinging on her hat and cloak she rushed into the park, and plunged into the deepest recesses of the underwood in order to escape detection in case of pursuit. She began to feel an actual terror of the man to whom she was betrothed. As she drew near to the park boundary, not far from the unused grass avenue – the great elm avenue which had never lost its fascination for her – she heard angry voices in the wood outside, one of them unmistakably Philip’s.
