Richard Forrest, Bachelor — page 255: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

246 A LIVING SAINT. She had not the faintest idea where they were, but not wishing to discourage him, answered: ‘“‘T’m not quite sure, Father, but I think we are about passing White Cliff. Are you cold?”’ ‘‘And if I were?’’ he returned. ‘‘I suppose,’’ as he saw her.glance down at the robe spread over her own knees, ‘‘you would give me your covering?”’ “Willingly, father.’’ ‘Tut! tut! my child,’’ he muttered, almost fretfully, ‘‘~ou must not allow your generosity to run away with your prudence. Leave me alone; I am well enough.”’ And presently his eyelids drooped again. Rose’s anxiety was increasing constantly; she concealed it with difficulty. But if Dick was under the impression she might at any moment address him, if only for the | sake of having some one with whom to discuss the situa- tion, he was mistaken, for she restrained herself and bravely kept her nervousness to herself. Most of the time she sat with her cheek pressed against the pane and her eyes straining out into the gloom. She had conjectured correctly as to their location, how- ever, for they soon passed under the shelter of the friendly cliff, which protected them, in a measure, from the force of the storm. They were ascending the mountain and found themselves comparatively comfortable for a mile or two. They had now traveled two-thirds of the distance, as Wallford lay on the other side at the foot of White Cliff. With her eyes striving to pierce the darkness, her thoughts traveled apace to Wallford—she could picture her home, her own cozy bedroom, with its pleasant wood fire, its dainty tea things, and Nora to bring her a loose gown and a tempting little supper, and last, but not least, Prince, Gomicbooks: com