'
'Tut, Mary, never mind. Everyone has her fortune told some time in her
life, and you can't have a good one without paying. I think, Mary, we must
be near Bartram now.'
The road now traversed the side of a steep hill, parallel to which,
along the opposite side of a winding river, rose the dark steeps of a
corresponding upland, covered with forest that looked awful and dim in the
deep shadow, while the moonlight rippled fitfully upon the stream beneath.
'It seems to be a beautiful country,' I said to Mary Quince, who was
munching a sandwich in the corner, and thus appealed to, adjusted her
bonnet, and made an inspection from _her_ window, which, however, commanded
nothing but the heathy slope of the hill whose side we were traversing.
'Well, Miss, I suppose it is; but there's a deal o' mountains--is not
there?'
And so saying, honest Mary leaned back again, and went on with her
sandwich.
We were now descending at a great pace. I knew we were coming near. I stood
up as well as I could in the carriage, to see over the postilions' heads.
I was eager, but frightened too; agitated as the crisis of the arrival and
meeting approached.
Pages:
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337