Believe me, it will be better by far that you should consent to marry me. Cathy reached out and touched Lucy’s chin with her two fingers, gently commanding her attention. The cloth was removed, and Wood, drawing the table as near the window as possible—for it was getting dusk —put on his spectacles, and opened that sacred volume from which the best consolation in affliction is derived, and left the lovers—for such they may now be fairly termed—to their own conversation. Acting upon this humane determination, he impelled himself slowly backwards,—for he did not dare to face the blast,—and with incredible labour and fatigue reached the crevice. “Sufficient unto me is the change thereof,” he said, with all the effect of an epigram. Hours were spent in preparation for the event.
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