Never had moon-beams shone upon a sight more fair. Harry was attired as
she had been on the previous evening, except that she wore a shawl,
which also served her as head-gear, like a hood. This she now
unfastened, and taking out the pin that had joined it together, held it
above the well, which showed, as in a mirror, her leaning face and
curving form, her wealth of hair, her frightened yet hopeful eyes, and
the rise and fall of her bosom, filled with anxiety and superstitious
awe. She had come to test her future--to foresee her fate--at Gethin
Wishing-Well. For an instant she poised the pin, her lips at the same
time murmuring some simple charm--then dropped it into the well's clear
depths, and watched it fall. As she did so, another figure seemed to
glide upon the liquid mirror, at the sight of which she clasped her
hands and trembled. Superstitious as she was, Harry had only half
expected that her foolish curiosity would be actually gratified. Moved
by the avowal of Richard's love that morning, the obstacles to which
seemed to her so formidable, she had wished to see her future husband,
to know how fate would decide between him she loved and him whom her
father had chosen for her, and yet she was terrified now that that
which she had desired was vouchsafed her.
Pages:
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243