Come and enrich my life; you shall still fill and shelter theirs.

I dare not think what my future might be without you to guide, to inspire, to bless--dare not--lest with a word you should plunge me into an outer darkness I cannot face.' He caught her unresisting hand, and raised it to his lips.
'Is there no sacredness,' he said, brokenly, 'in the fate that has brought us together-out of all the world--here in this lonely valley?
Come to me, Catherine.

You shall never fail the old ties, I promise you; and new hands shall cling to you--new voices shall call you blessed.' Catherine could hardly breathe.

Every word had been like balm upon a wound--like a ray of intense light in the gloom about them.

Oh, where was this softness bearing her--this emptiness of all will, of all individual power?
She hid her eyes with her other hand, struggling to recall that far away moment in Marrisdale.