” “God send you may never repent it!” cried Capes. There was no rush. There is only Gerald to see me, after all. Two souls in travail; one inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs. Listen to your mother's prayers, and do not let her die brokenhearted. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it.
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