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Tears gushed into her eyes: she dispersed them hastily with her fingers; and, looking around her with an air of inquietude and shame, said, with studied composure, "You have kindly, Mr. Naird, offered me your services. I thankfully accept them. Pursue and find, without delay, Mr. Harleigh, repeat to him what you have just pronounced, and tell him. . . . . ." She blushed deeply, sighed; checked herself, and mildly went on, "This is no season for pride! Tell him my situation, and that I beg, I entreat, I conjure, I even implore him to let me once more—" Again she stopt, almost choaked with repressed emotions; but presently, with a calmer accent, added, "Say to him, he will not merely soften, but delight my last moments, in being then the sole object I shall behold, as, from the instant that I first saw him, he has been the only one who has engaged my thoughts:—the imperious, constant master of my mind!"
