Shirley

at last,« said the meagre man, gazing on his visitress with hollow eyes.
    »Did you expect me before?«
    »For a month – near two months, we have been very near; and I have been in sad pain, and danger, and misery, Cary.«
    »I could not come.«
    »Couldn't you? But the Rectory and Briarmains are very near: not two miles apart.«
    There was pain – there was pleasure in the girl's face as she listened to these implied reproaches: it was sweet – it was bitter to defend herself.
    »When I say I could not come, I mean I could not see you; for I came with mamma the very day we heard what had happened. Mr. MacTurk then told us it was impossible to admit any stranger.«
    »But afterwards – every fine afternoon these many weeks past I have waited and listened. Something here, Cary, (laying his hand on his breast), told me it was impossible but that you should think of me. Not that I merit thought; but we are old acquaintance: we are cousins.«
    »I came again, Robert: mamma and I came again.«
    »Did you? Come, that is worth hearing: since you came again, we will sit down and talk about it.«
    They sat down. Caroline drew her chair up to his. The air was now dark with snow: an Iceland blast was driving it wildly. This pair neither heard the long ›wuthering‹ rush, nor saw the white burden it drifted: each seemed conscious but of one thing – the presence of the other.
    »So mamma and you came again?«
    »And Mrs. Yorke did treat us strangely. We asked to see you. ›No,‹ said she; ›not in my house. I am at present responsible for his life: it shall not be forfeited for half an hour's idle gossip.‹ But I must not tell you all she said: it was very disagreeable. However, we came yet again – mamma, Miss Keeldar, and I. This time we thought we should conquer, as we were three against one, and Shirley was on our side. But Mrs. Yorke opened such a battery.«
    Moore smiled. »What did she say?«
    »Things that astonished us. Shirley laughed at last; I cried; mamma was seriously annoyed: we were all three driven from the field. Since that time I have only walked once a-day past the house, just for the satisfaction of looking up at your window, which I could distinguish by the drawn curtains. I really dared not come in.«
    »I
have
wished for you, Caroline.«
    »I did not know that. I never dreamt one instant that you thought of me. If I had but most distantly imagined such a possibility –«
    »Mrs. Yorke would still have beaten you.«
    »She would not. Stratagem should have been tried, if persuasion failed. I would have come to the kitchen door; the servant should have let me in; and I would have walked straight up-stairs. In fact, it was far more the fear of intrusion – the fear of yourself, that baffled me, than the fear of Mrs. Yorke.«
    »Only last night, I despaired of ever seeing you again. Weakness has wrought terrible depression in me – terrible depression.«
    »And you sit alone?«
    »Worse than alone.«
    »But you must be getting better, since you can leave your bed?«
    »I doubt whether I shall live: I see nothing for it, after such exhaustion, but decline.«
    »You – you shall go home to the Hollow.«
    »Dreariness would accompany – nothing cheerful come near me.«
    »I
will
alter this: this
shall
be altered, were there ten Mrs. Yorkes to do battle with.«
    »Cary, you make me smile.«
    »Do smile: smile again. Shall I tell you what I should like?«
    »Tell me anything – only keep talking. I am Saul: but for music I should perish.«
    »I should like you to be brought to the Rectory, and given to me and mamma.«
    »A precious gift! I have not laughed since they shot me till now.«
    »Do you suffer pain, Robert?«
    »Not so much pain now; but I am hopelessly weak, and the state of my mind is inexpressible – dark, barren, impotent. Do you not read it all in my face? I look a mere ghost.«
    »Altered, yet I should have known you anywhere: but I understand your feelings: I experienced something like it. Since we met, I too have been very ill.«
    »
Very
ill?«
    »I thought I should die. The tale of my life seemed told. Every night, just at midnight, I used to wake from awful dreams – and the book lay open before me at the last page, where was written ›Finis.‹ I had strange feelings.«
    »You speak my experience.«
    »I believed I should never see you again; and I grew so thin – as thin as you are now: I could do nothing for myself – neither rise nor lie down; and I could not eat