"A little after eleven we went upstairs to try if we could get some
rest.
"I drew aside the curtain of my window and looked out. Oh, what a cruel
last night it was: no moon, no stars; such deep darkness that not one
of the dear familiar objects in the garden was visible when I looked
for them; such deep stillness that even my own movements about the room
almost frightened me! I tried to lie down and sleep, but the sense of
loneliness came again and quite overpowered me. You will say I am old
enough, at six-and-twenty, to have exerted more control over myself. I
hardly know how it happened, but I stole into Magdalen's room, just as
I used to steal into it years and years ago, when we were children. She
was not in bed; she was sitting with her writing materials before her,
thinking. I said I wanted to be with her the last night; and she kissed
me, and told me to lie down, and promised soon to follow me. My mind was
a little quieted and I fell asleep. It was daylight when I woke--and the
first sight I saw was Magdalen, still sitting in the chair, and still
thinking. She had never been to bed; she had not slept all through the
night.
"'I shall sleep when we have left Combe-Raven,' she said.
Pages:
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288