At this instant, a tress of her hair, becoming unfastened, fell over upon my face.

She started--the motion threw me off my guard, and I looked up.

She gave a faint, scarce audible shriek, and sank into the chair beside me.

Recovering, however, upon the instant, she grasped the letter she had just laid down, and, having crushed it between her fingers, threw it into the fire.

This done--as if the effort had been too much for her strength--she again fell back upon her seat, and looked so pale I almost thought she had fainted.
Before I had time to speak, she rose once more; and now her face was bathed in blushes, her eyes swam with rising tears, and her lips trembled with emotion as she spoke.
"Oh, Mr.Lorrequer, what will you--what can you think of this?
If you but knew--;" and here she faltered and again grew pale, while I with difficulty rising from the sofa, took her hand, and led her to the chair beside it.
"And may I not know ?" said I; "may I not know, my dear"-- I am not sure I did not say dearest--"Miss Bingham, when, perhaps, the knowledge might make me the happiest of mortals ?" This was a pretty plunge as a sequel to my late resolutions.