"This trial, too!" muttered Susan, almost inaudibly,—"this trial which I once yearned for; "and the hand clasped in Fielden's was as cold as ice. Then, turning her eyes to her guardian somewhat wildly, she cried: "But to what end, what object? Why should he wish to see me?"
"To take greater courage to do his duty; to feel less unhappy at—at—"
"I will see him," interrupted Susan, firmly,—"he is right; it will strengthen both. I will see him!"
"But human nature is weak, my child; if my heart be so now, what will be yours?"
"Fear me not," answered Susan, with a sad, wandering smile; and she repeated vacantly: "I will see him!"
The good man looked at her, threw his arms round her wasted form, and lifting up his eyes, his lips stirred with such half-syllabled words as fathers breathe on high.