Page 441 - vanity-fair

should not seem to reproach him. But when he had re-
turned, so soon after herself, too, this timid little heart had
felt more at ease, and turning towards him as he stept softly
out of the room, she had fallen into a light sleep. George
came in and looked at her again, entering still more softly.
By the pale night-lamp he could see her sweet, pale face—
the purple eyelids were fringed and closed, and one round
arm, smooth and white, lay outside of the coverlet. Good
God! how pure she was; how gentle, how tender, and how
friendless! and he, how selfish, brutal, and black with crime!
Heart-stained, and shamestricken, he stood at the bed’s foot,
and looked at the sleeping girl. How dared he—who was he,
to pray for one so spotless! God bless her! God bless her! He
came to the bedside, and looked at the hand, the little soft
hand, lying asleep; and he bent over the pillow noiselessly
towards the gentle pale face.
Two fair arms closed tenderly round his neck as he
stooped down. ‘I am awake, George,’ the poor child said,
with a sob fit to break the little heart that nestled so closely
by his own. She was awake, poor soul, and to what? At that
moment a bugle from the Place of Arms began sounding
clearly, and was taken up through the town; and amidst the
drums of the infantry, and the shrill pipes of the Scotch, the
whole city awoke.

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