Page 86 - erewhon

Twilight drew on, and rain pattered against the windows.
Never yet had I felt so unhappy, except during three days of
sea- sickness at the beginning of my voyage from England.
I sat musing and in great melancholy, until Yram made her
appearance with light and supper. She too, poor girl, was
miserable; for she had heard that I was to leave them. She
had made up her mind that I was to remain always in the
town, even after my imprisonment was over; and I fancy had
resolved to marry me though I had never so much as hint-
ed at her doing so. So what with the distressingly strange
conversation with my teacher, my own friendless condition,
and Yram’s melancholy, I felt more unhappy than I can de-
scribe, and remained so till I got to bed, and sleep sealed
my eyelids.
On awaking next morning I was much better. It was
settled that I was to make my start in a conveyance which
was to be in waiting for me at about eleven o’clock; and the
anticipation of change put me in good spirits, which even
the tearful face of Yram could hardly altogether derange.
I kissed her again and again, assured her that we should
meet hereafter, and that in the meanwhile I should be ever
mindful of her kindness. I gave her two of the buttons off
my coat and a lock of my hair as a keepsake, taking a goodly
curl from her own beautiful head in return: and so, having
said good-bye a hundred times, till I was fairly overcome
with her great sweetness and her sorrow, I tore myself away
from her and got down-stairs to the caleche which was in
waiting. How thankful I was when it was all over, and I was
driven away and out of sight. Would that I could have felt