upon her at once; on the other hand, the anxious voice still ringing in her ear, the incoherent vehemence of the note, the risk, the opprobrium Clifford had incurred, solely—her heart whispered—to see her, all aided her simple temper, her kind feelings, and her love for the petitioner, in inducing her to consent. She cast one glance behind, all seemed occupied with far other thoughts than that of notice towards her; she looked anxiously before, all was gloomy and indistinct; but suddenly, at some little distance, she descried a dark figure in motion. She felt her knees shake under her, her heart beat violently; she moved onward a few paces, again paused, and looked back; the figure before her moved as in approach, she resumed courage, and advanced—the figure was by her side.
"How generous, how condescending, is this goodness in Miss Brandon!" said the voice, which so struggled with secret and strong emotion, that Lucy scarcely recognized it as Clifford's. "I did not dare to expect it; and now—now that I meet you" Clifford paused, as if seeking
