touched him; afterwards he turned to her.

‘“Now - Catherine,” he said, “how do you feel?”

‘She was dumb.

‘“How do you feel, Catherine?” he repeated.

‘“He’s safe, and I’m free,” she answered: “I should feel well - but,” she continued, with a bitterness she couldn’t conceal, “you have left me so long to struggle against death alone, that I feel and see only death! I feel like death!”

‘And she looked like it, too! I gave her a little wine. Hareton and Joseph, who had been wakened by the ringing and the sound of feet, and heard our talk from outside, now entered. Joseph was fain, I believe, of the lad’s