She said, very quietly, that she wished to speak to him after
breakfast, and that he would find her in her sitting-room with me.
He changed colour at those words, and I felt his hand trembling a
little when it came to my turn to take it. The event of the next
morning would decide his future life, and he evidently knew it.
I went in, as usual, through the door between our two bed-rooms,
to bid Laura good-night before she went to sleep. In stooping
over her to kiss her I saw the little book of Hartright's drawings
half hidden under her pillow, just in the place where she used to
hide her favourite toys when she was a child. I could not find it
in my heart to say anything, but I pointed to the book and shook
my head. She reached both hands up to my cheeks, and drew my face
down to hers till our lips met.
"Leave it there to-night," she whispered; "to-morrow may be cruel,
and may make me say good-bye to it for ever."
9th.--The first event of the morning was not of a kind to raise my
spirits--a letter arrived for me from poor Walter Hartright. It
is the answer to mine describing the manner in which Sir Percival
cleared himself of the suspicions raised by Anne Catherick's
letter.
Pages:
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286