This is grace I am saying! Oh! my dear! all the joy and weeping of life are mixed in me now and all the gratitude. “And to think that it’s not a full year ago since I was a black-hearted rebel school-girl, distressed, puzzled, perplexed, not understanding that this great force of love was bursting its way through me! All those nameless discontents—they were no more than love’s birth-pangs. “I have brought you very nearly to my door. . "How old are you?" demanded Miss Prudence. 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. ‘So it is that you could not help it. “My first love was all blundering,” said Capes. ‘At last,’ he cried, ‘I have found you!’ He would listen to nothing. He was not particularly grateful for the present situation. “I will take a carriage,” she said, “and fetch my things. She felt that with Capes near to her she would be content always to go on loving. “Quite unusually cold for the time of year,” he said. On that night, I surrendered myself to Jonathan Wild, and became— what I am.
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