"For the repeal of your terrible law—the Orders you hate so much. You are pleased, are you not?"
"Yesterday evening at this time I was packing some books for a sea-voyage. They were the only possessions, except some clothes, seeds, roots, and tools, which I felt free to take with me to Canada. I was going to leave you."
"To leave me? To leave me?"
Her little fingers fastened on his arm; she spoke and looked affrighted.
"Not now—not now. Examine my face—yes, look at me well. Is the despair of parting legible thereon?"
She looked into an illuminated countenance, whose characters were all beaming, though the page itself was dusk. This face, potent in the majesty of its traits, shed down on her hope, fondness, delight.
"Will the repeal do you good—much good, immediate good?" she inquired.
"The repeal of the Orders in Council saves me. Now I shall not turn bankrupt; now I shall not give up business; now I shall not leave England; now I shall be no longer poor; now I can pay my debts; now all the cloth I have in my warehouses will be taken off my hands, and commissions given me for much more. This day lays for my fortunes a broad, firm foundation, on which, for the first time in my life, I can securely build."
Caroline devoured his words; she held his hand in hers; she drew a long breath.
"You are saved? Your heavy difficulties are lifted?"