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Lizzie Leigh | Elizabeth Gaskell | |
Chapter IV |
Page 3 of 4 |
He made as if he were going away; and indeed he did feel he would rather think it over in quiet. But Susan, grieved at her incautious words, which had all the appearance of harshness, went a step or two nearer--paused--and then, all over blushes, said in a low, soft whisper - "Oh, Will! I beg your pardon. I am very sorry. Won't you forgive me?" She who had always drawn back, and been so reserved, said this in the very softest manner; with eyes now uplifted beseechingly, now dropped to the ground. Her sweet confusion told more than words could do; and Will turned back, all joyous in his certainty of being beloved, and took her in his arms, and kissed her. "My own Susan!" he said. Meanwhile the mother watched her child in the room above. It was late in the afternoon before she awoke, for the sleeping draught had been very powerful. The instant she awoke, her eyes were fixed on her mother's face with a gaze as unflinching as if she were fascinated. Mrs. Leigh did not turn away, nor move; for it seemed as if motion would unlock the stony command over herself which, while so perfectly still, she was enabled to preserve. But by-and-by Lizzie cried out, in a piercing voice of agony - "Mother, don't look at me! I have been so wicked!" and instantly she hid her face, and grovelled among the bed-clothes, and lay like one dead, so motionless was she. Mrs. Leigh knelt down by the bed, and spoke in the most soothing tones. |
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Lizzie Leigh Elizabeth Gaskell |
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