“Very well, sir.”

    “it an extraordinary smile you uttered t ter! Are you well?”

    “I believe I am.”

    “Believe!  is tter? tell me w you feel.”

    “I could not, sir: no ell you e t may come charged?”

    “ted, or over- fatigued.”

    “Do you, sir, feel calm and happy?”

    “Calm?—no: but o t’s core.”

    I looked up at o read t  and flushed.

    “Give me your confidence, Jane,”  t oppresses it, by imparting it to me.  do you fear?—t I s prove a good husband?”

    “It is t from my ts.”

    “Are you appre to enter?—of to which you are passing?”

    “No.”

    “You puzzle me, Jane: your look and tone of sorroy perplex and pain me. I  an explanation.”

    “ten. You ?”

    “I ; and you ed a , in s, it urbed you. Let me . Mrs. Fairfax s talk?— your sensitive self-respect has been wounded?”

    “No, sir.” It struck ted till time-piece s silver cs ting stroke, and then I proceeded.

    “All day yesterday I , as you seem to troubled by any ing fears about t cetera: I t a glorious to  caress me no me talk undisturbed. Yesterday I trusted  events oget —ting your safety or comfort on your journey. I tle er tea, tion so near me, I scarcely missed your actual presence. I t of t lay before me—your life, sir—an existence more expansive and stirring to rait cs call t blossomed like a rose. Just at sunset, turned cold and t in, Sopairs to look at my —travagance, you sent for from London: resolved, I suppose, since I  o c me into accept