“Then；　sir；　listen。　You　were　from　home　last　night？”

“I　was：　I　know　that；　and　you　hinted　a　while　ago　at　something　which　had　happened　in　my　absence：…　nothing；　probably；　of　consequence；　but；　in　short；　it　has　disturbed　you。　Let　me　hear　it。　Mrs。　Fairfax　has　said　something；　perhaps？　or　you　have　overheard　the　servants　talk？—　your　sensitive　self…respect　has　been　wounded？”

“No；　sir。”　It　struck　twelve—I　waited　till　the　time…piece　had　concluded　its　silver　chime；　and　the　clock　its　hoarse；　vibritting　stroke；　and　then　I　proceeded。

“All　day　yesterday　I　was　very　busy；　and　very　happy　in　my　ceaseless　bustle；　for　I　am　not；　as　you　seem　to　think；　troubled　by　any　haunting　fears　about　the　new　sphere；　et　cetera：　I　think　it　a　glorious　thing　to　have　the　hope　of　living　with　you；　because　I　love　you。　No；　sir；　don’t　caress　me　now—let　me　talk　undisturbed。　Yesterday　I　trusted　well　in　Providence；　and　believed　that　events　were　working　together　for　your　good　and　mine：　it　was　a　fine　day；　if　you　recollect—the　calmness　of　the　air　and　sky　forbade　apprehensions　respecting　your　safety　or　fort　on　your　journey。　I　walked　a　little　while　on　the　pavement　after　tea；　thinking　of　you；　and　I　beheld　you　in　imagination　so　near　me；　I　scarcely　missed　your　actual　presence。　I　thought　of　the　life　that　lay　before　me—your　life；　sir—an　existence　more　expansive　and　stirring　than　my　own：　as　much　more　so　as　the　depths　of　the　sea　to　which　the　brook　runs　are　than　the　shallows　of　its　own　strait　channel。　I　wondered　wh