different;—I feel your benefits no burden, Jane."
He paused; gazed at me: words almost visible trembled on his lips,—but his voice was checked.
"Good night again, sir. There is no debt, benefit, burden, obligation, in the case."
"I knew," he continued, "you would do me good in some way, at some time;—I saw it in your eyes when I first beheld you: their expression and smile did not—(again he stopped)—did not (he proceeded, hastily) strike delight to my very inmost heart so for nothing. People talk of natural sympathies; I have heard of good genii:—there are grains of truth in the wildest fable. My cherished preserver, good night!"
Strange energy was in his voice; strange fire in his look.
"I am glad I happened to be awake," I said; and then I was going.
"What, you will go?"
"I am cold, sir."
"Cold? Yes,—and standing in a pool. Go, then, Jane; go!" But he still retained
