In order to gain strength to support the expected interview, she went
out in a carriage. The day was fine; but all nature was to her a
universal blank; she could neither enjoy it, nor weep that she could
not. She passed by the ruins of an old monastery on a very high hill she
got out to walk amongst the ruins; the wind blew violently, she did not
avoid its fury, on the contrary, wildly bid it blow on, and seemed glad
to contend with it, or rather walk against it. Exhausted she returned to
the carriage was soon at home, and in the old room.
Henry started at the sight of her altered appearance; the day before her
complexion had been of the most pallid hue; but now her cheeks were
flushed, and her eyes enlivened with a false vivacity, an unusual fire.
He was not well, his illness was apparent in his countenance, and he
owned he had not closed his eyes all night; this roused her dormant
tenderness, she forgot they were so soon to part-engrossed by the
present happiness of seeing, of hearing him.
Once or twice she essayed to tell him that she was, in a few days, to
depart; but she could not; she was irresolute; it will do to-morrow;
should the wind change they could not sail in such a hurry; thus she
thought, and insensibly grew more calm. The Ladies prevailed on her to
spend the evening with them; but she retired very early to rest, and sat
on the side of her bed several hours, then threw herself on it, and
waited for the dreaded to-morrow.