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and in a tone scarcely audible, pronouncing, "Oh! hurry us away, Mr. Harleigh!—in mercy!—in compassion!"
Harleigh, bowing upon the hands which he ventured not to touch, but of which he felt the impression with a pang indescribable, called to the postilion to drive off full gallop.
With a low and sad inclination of the head, Juliet, in a faultering voice, thanked him; involuntarily adding, "My prayers, Mr. Harleigh,—my every wish for happiness,—will for ever be yours!"
The chaise drove off; but his groan, rather than sigh, reached her agonized ear; and, in an emotion too violent for concealment, yet to which she durst allow no vent, she held her almost bursting forehead with her hand; breathing only by smothered sighs, and scarcely sensible to the happiness of an uncertain escape, while bowed down by the sight of the misery that she had inflicted, where all that she owed was benevolence, sympathy, and generosity.
