What could be the matter with him?
His face was ghastly pale; his eyes were fixed upon the ground; his teeth clenched: his forehead glistened with the dews of agony.

It was plain he knew his wrongs at last! Unconscious of my presence, he began to pace the room in a state of fearful agitation, violently wringing his hands and uttering low groans or incoherent ejaculations.

I made a movement to let him know that he was not alone; but he was too preoccupied to notice it.

Perhaps, while his back was towards me, I might cross the room and slip away unobserved.
I rose to make the attempt, but then he perceived me.

He started and stood still a moment; then wiped his streaming forehead, and, advancing towards me, with a kind of unnatural composure, said in a deep, almost sepulchral tone,--'Mrs.Huntingdon, I must leave you to-morrow.' 'To-morrow!' I repeated.