So I
determined not to follow Isopel Berners; I took her lock of hair,
and looked at it, then put it in her letter, which I folded up and
carefully stowed away, resolved to keep both for ever, but I
determined not to follow her. Two or three times, however, during
the day, I wavered in my determination, and was again and again
almost tempted to follow her, but every succeeding time the
temptation was fainter. In the evening I left the dingle, and sat
down with Mr. Petulengro and his family by the door of his tent;
Mr. Petulengro soon began talking of the letter which I had
received in the morning. "Is it not from Miss Berners, brother?"
said he. I told him it was. "Is she coming back, brother?"
"Never," said I; "she is gone to America, and has deserted me." "I
always knew that you two were never destined for each other," said
he. "How did you know that?" I inquired. "The dook told me so,
brother; you are born to be a great traveller." "Well," said I,
"if I had gone with her to America, as I was thinking of doing, I
should have been a great traveller." "You are to travel in another
direction, brother," said he. "I wish you would tell me all about
my future wanderings," said I. "I can't, brother," said Mr.
Petulengro, "there's a power of clouds before my eye.
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