Dracula

just starting for home. That is
not like Jonathan; I do not understand it, and it makes me uneasy.
Then, too, Lucy, although she is so well, has lately taken to her
old habit of walking in her sleep. Her mother has spoken to me about
it, and we have decided that I am to lock the door of our room every
night. Mrs. Westenra has got an idea that sleep-walkers always go
out on roofs of houses and along the edges of cliffs, and then get
suddenly wakened and fall over with a despairing cry that echoes all
over the place. Poor dear, she is naturally anxious about Lucy, and
she tells me that her husband, Lucy's father, had the same habit; that
he would get up in the night and dress himself and go out, if he
were not stopped. Lucy is to be married in the autumn, and she is
already planning out her dresses and how her house is to be
arranged. I sympathise with her, for I do the same, only Jonathan
and I will start in life in a very simple way, and shall have to try
to make both ends meet. Mr. Holmwood- he is the Hon. Arthur
Holmwood, only son of Lord Godalming- is coming up here very
shortly- as soon as he can leave town, for his father is not very
well, and I think dear Lucy is counting the moments till he comes. She
wants to take him up to the seat on the churchyard cliff and show
him the beauty of Whitby. I daresay it is the waiting which disturbs
her; she will be all right when he arrives.
-
27 July.- No news from Jonathan. I am getting quite uneasy about
him, though why I should I do not know; but I do wish that he would
write, if it were only a single line. Lucy walks more than ever, and
each night I am awakened by her moving about the room. Fortunately,
the weather is so hot that she cannot get cold; but still the
anxiety and the perpetually being wakened is beginning to tell on
me, and I am getting nervous and wakeful myself. Thank God, Lucy's
health keeps up. Mr. Holmwood has been suddenly called to Ring to
see his father, who has been taken seriously ill. Lucy frets at the
postponement of seeing him, but it does not touch her looks; she is
a trifle stouter, and her cheeks are a lovely rose pink. She has
lost that anaemic look which she had. I pray it will all last.
-
{CH06 ^paragraph 60}
3 August.- Another week gone, and no news from Jonathan, not even to
Mr. Hawkins, from whom I have heard. Oh, I do hope he is not ill. He
surely would have written. I look at that last letter of his, but
somehow it does not satisfy me. It does not read like him, and yet
it is his writing. There